Ragnarok Scenario: Relaunch - Draft
by Dragon Torretto
Summary: 6 years before the fall of the colonies, Valkyrie's mission to violate the armistice set in motion both sides getting ready for a renewed conflict. The Cylons for revenge and the threat of humanity; the colonials general oblivious prepared in secret for defense. The worst case was assumed, a secret colony made and plans to retake the colonies if the Cylons won. Relaunch of original
1. 1x01 Introduction Part 1

_**There are those who believe that life here began out there, far across the universe, with tribes of humans who may have been the forefathers of ancient civilizations. Some believe that there may yet be brothers of man who even now fight to survive far, far away, amongst the stars…**_

 _ **-Opening text of BattleStar Galactica**_

 _Over two thousand years ago, the twelve tribes of man found their new home in a rare quaternary [four] star system. It would be known as the Cyrannus system where, in time, each tribe would colonize their own world, each divided among how close they were to the four stars of the Cyrannus system. The colonies Picon, Caprica, Gemenon, and Tauron settled around the star Helios Alpha; Virgon and Leonis settled around Helios Beta; Canceron, Aerilon, and Aquaria settled around Helios Delta; and Scorpia, Sagittaron, and Libran settled around Helios Gamma._

 _Gradually, these colonies were terra-formed, becoming more suited to human life as crops, plants, and animals brought from the tribes' home-world Kobol were introduced. Each colony acted as a sovereign nation, with their separation from each other providing peace and stability. As centuries passed, technology that had been abandoned upon their arrival to their new homes became prevalent once more. Returning to travel among the stars, the colonies began interacting again... War followed as old grudges reignited. Rivalry and competition for resources, including controlling other less-wealthy colonies, chief among their reasons. Centuries of inter-colony conflict passed..._

 _Virgon and Leonis formed the original superpower-bloc, controlling and conquering other colonies over centuries, and their fierce rivalry cost countless lives. Other colonies grew in power as the two strong empires were exhausted and declining. They withdrew from politics to form isolationist states, slowly regaining their wealth. Caprica and Tauron soon replaced the superpowers dominating politics of the twelve worlds; old allegiances shifted to fit the new power-bloc. Caprica had shifted from a monarchy to an electoral government, enforcing an example for other colonies, and became the most technologically advanced colony. It was from there that the ultimate technological achievement was formed: artificial lifeforms in the form of automaton robots, machines, known as Cylons [_ _ **Cy**_ _bernetic_ _ **L**_ _ifef_ _ **o**_ _rm_ _ **N**_ _ode]._

 _These machines were created to make life easier on the colonies, accomplishing difficult or undesired tasks for humankind. The Cylons proved themselves to be the greatest soldiers. Intelligently designed; they were fearless, ruthlessly efficient, and able to adapt and act on their own: without the need for constant instruction._

 **Februarius 27, 2297**

 **Caprica, Atlas Arena**

Caprica was a lush, beautiful, blue-green world with the perfect climate. Not too hot or cold, or prone to intense weather variations. The skies were clear, with bright sunshine and a cool breeze.

Atlas Arena was the home field of the Caprica City Buccaneers, their personal court for Pyramid: the most popular game in the Twelve Worlds. Atop the large stadium filled with roaring fans overlooking the Pyramid court, a podium box stood with two broadcasting commentators, each dressed in a yellow blazer over plaid business shirts.

"This is Steve Bahara along with Abasi Lo, and we are here at Atlas Arena awaiting the start of the pyramid match between the Cap City Buccaneers and the Delphi Legion," Steve Bahara said jubilantly, a man in his late forties with graying brown hair in a spiked buzz cut.

The Caprican anthem began playing, instrumental music vibrating throughout the stadium as the crowd repeated the words of the Caprican national anthem...

The singing was interrupted as the broadcasting commentators high above the stadium in the podium box gasped over their microphones, noticing as four black helicopters appeared overhead and lowered onto the Pyramid field.

Lacking rotor blades atop the center of the craft, twin engines were apparent on each side of the helicopter, akin to jet propulsion. The helicopters' engines revved loudly as the thrusters engaged harder, cushioning the crafts' landing onto the grassy field.

"This is- This is unprecedented..." Steve Bahara murmured with astonishment, his eyes widening, "A marine squadron has landed at Atlas Arena."

Cylon centurions rapidly exited the helicopter transports onto the pyramid field. Their silver metallic bodies gleamed in the sunlight. Approximately 6 feet tall, the size of a man with metal bodies matching the human body's structure, each was painted with a faded grey color camouflage similar to a marine's combat fatigues.

The lead centurion's head weaved back and forth as it searched the crowds. Its head approximately matched the shape of a human's, with a long visor spread across where the eyes would be. Along this visor was a large red dot signifying its 'eye' which weaved back and forth.

"Look like military troopers. Robots of some sort," Abasi Lo said. She was an attractive woman in her late thirties with lush black hair that flowed down to her shoulders and brown eyes that shone with excitement.

"Okay... Now they're starting to move into a, uh, formation," Steve Bahara noted, perplexed.

Two dozen centurions formed into a group in a circular formation, several lead centurions with heavier armor pointed the other centurions where to go, until the centurions were each positioned facing every direction of the stands containing the crowd of Pyramid fans above.

The roving red eyes of the centurions scanned the people of the crowds, taking in the forms of children, elderly, men with graying hair or women in dress-suits... Their chemical sensors were active. They focused in on specific people that their scanners picked up, locking onto their targets; people whose body signatures outlined under the roving eye revealed a bomb strapped to their chests.

Raising sniper-rifles, the centurions as one scoped in on individuals they'd singled out and started firing on various targets throughout the arena. A brunette woman in a leather jacket fell forward in her seat as blood dripped from her forehead. A man in his forties with buzz-cut grey hair fell backwards, eyes rolling back in his head as a bullet hit him directly at the center of his forehead. Three other targets were eliminated just as quickly.

The crowds of gathered Capricans began panicking. Screams filled the air. Thousands of men and women and children ran to escape their seats in a free-for-all, all trying to save themselves.

The last man wearing a bomb on his chest had removed his coat. Being sighted in by the centurions, he was just pulling out the detonator for the bomb he wore to push the red button-trigger when a man got in his way trying to flee, telling him to "Move it!" The bomber was pushed down hard on the ground and the trigger fell, rolling away across the ground. Lost among the fleeing crowd.

Losing sight of the target, the centurions fired up towards the target's general position. They removed the expended clips on their guns and rearmed as they moved forward, their red eyes focused up on the stands. The lead centurion made hand gestures to his platoon, waving his finger around in the air to signal for the group to assemble together, and, forming a fist, it raised its hand up toward the stands in the direction of the target they sought.

The centurions started running to the walls of the pyramid stands and, putting up their weapons on their backs, they began climbing up the wall hand over foot. They climbed several hundred feet upward until reaching the level their target was on, and hopped onto the stands. Weaving among the seats and jumping over row after row, they neared the target as the man frantically moved around on the ground, searching, until he found the detonator and grabbed it. He stood tall as the centurions rushed toward him.

"The one true God will drive out the many! So say we all!" the man yelled, his eyes bugging out as he raised the detonator and started pressing it. Rushing the last few feet toward the man, the centurions leapt in the air over him.

The bomb detonated, cushioned by the bodies of the centurions. The explosion made a loud boom, destroying several nearby seats in the stands and shaking the stadium, otherwise doing little harm.

 _Statues of the centurions are erected, memorializing the actions of the centurions in protecting humanity at Atlas Arena. Regarded as heroes, centurions are immensely popular among the colonies. Thousands are quickly brought into production to serve as soldiers, and soon enough widespread use for them occurred in many other facets of colonial society._

 **Caprica, Graystone Estate**

 **Backtalk with Baxter Sarno Talk-Show**

"I'm here with Daniel Graystone, the creator of the now defunct holo-band technology for V-World and more importantly, the creator of the Cylons. Welcome, Doctor Graystone," Baxter Sarno, a brown haired heavy-set Caprican reporter, said as a suave smile found its way onto his lips.

"It's good to be here, Mr. Sarno," Daniel Graystone, a red-haired man in a polished blue-striped suit, said amiably.

"Did you ever anticipate Cylons being integrated into society this quickly?" Baxter Sarno asked, his expression filled with amazement as he quirked his eyebrows.

"No, I think it took the event at Atlas Arena to galvanize the people. I think once they saw how much the monotheists hated us and how powerful they had become, and then saw the Cylons out there, protecting us," Daniel Graystone said contemplatively, and snapping his fingers together continued, "I think it all changed in an instant."

"Then let's look at the future then, 'cause I'm hearing talk about Cylon butlers, Cylon nurses. How long before my niece, Candice, comes home with her Cylon fiancé to introduce to the family?" Baxter Sarno asked in jest, smirking.

Daniel smiled, his eyebrows drawn together, "Well, I think people are smart enough to realize that, as useful as they are, Cylons are simply tools. Nothing more. And to forget that, to blur the distinction between man and machine and to attribute human qualities, is folly."

"There's no way to know what lies ahead, really. This technology, it has taken us those last few steps to the mountain pass, but beyond, it's undiscovered country." Daniel Graystone said, smiling widely, a glint of excitement in his eyes…

 _Designed to imitate human decision-making processes, to be able to react to situational changes in order to meet intentions behind orders, the Cylons were made to be very intelligent. An unchecked intelligence, with few limits on their programming to control their actions. They could make decisions based on intent with pure logical reasoning and not always follow orders' exact wording. They were programmed solely to focus on meeting human needs and wants, and not their own beyond what was required to meet human expectations for them. With adaptive self-learning capabilities and intelligence, and without counteractive programming, nothing stopped them from developing to do so…_

 **Orbiting Caprica, Caprican Shipyards**

 **Centurion Salvage and Repair Shop**

Mechanic David Lynch watched as a Cylon Centurion dragged a fellow damaged Cylon into the repair bay. Both units had taken a beating in securing the smuggler's space station in the Erebos Asteroid Belt. But the one being dragged in was clearly in worse shape. Multiple rounds had torn into its head and torso. He could smell the acrid smell of battery fluid.

 _'Great,'_ David thought to himself. _'The damn thing is going to leak all over the place and I'll get yelled at about the mess.'_

Coming to a stop before him the still functional Cylon dutifully reported, "Centurion Unit 375 delivering damaged centurion unit for repair. Centurion Unit 374 has suffered extensive damage."

"Yeah, I can see that," David replied drolly as he bent down to survey the non-functioning Cylon.

"Unit 374 received the damage in the course of combat with human occupants of the station. They would not surrender peacefully."

"Well, duh, that's why we sent you guys in there to take them out," David said, rolling his eyes as he leaned over the damaged centurion's head, ejecting the armored helmet layer of its head.

The Cylon's head tilted down to observe its broken companion. Its oscillating red eye roving back and forth slowed. "Unit 374 took damage while shielding this unit from weapons fire from the smugglers."

David did not reply. He was busy checking the Meta-Cognitive Processor [MCP] of the damaged centurion, the control board for its memory and intelligence that essentially formed its brain. At least several rounds had penetrated the shielded equipment. The whole thing would need to be replaced.

"Can Unit 374 be repaired?"

The question startled David. Usually, the Cylons did not ask a question unless they required additional information to complete a task, or conflict occurred in their programming between competing instructions. To ask a question about repairing a nonfunctioning unit was a little odd. He would need to check this other Cylon out when he was done with this one.

"Why do you care?" David asked a little absent mindedly as he went back to pulling the memory card from the broken Cylon.

"This unit and Unit 374 have completed forty-two missions together. Our co-operation has led to over a 90% satisfactory level of completion of our assignments," Centurion Unit 375 said, its robotic voice echoing in the repair bay.

"Well that's nice, but your buddy here has a completely fried MCP and the main battery leaked over some of the memory components," David said, frustration in his tone as he noticed more problems across the centurions damaged body. The prospects for the return rate for it being scrapped weren't looking good.

Glancing at Unit 374, 375 reached a conclusion, its rotating red eye blinking vibrant red. "This unit will assist in repairs."

David stood back up and faced the Cylon. "Well, thanks. But that's not going to happen. I've got orders to keep cost overruns down. Repairing those memory units will be really expensive. The damage is so extensive I don't even know if it can be done. With its busted MCP, it's easier to just scrap him for parts."

If David didn't know better he would have sworn he saw the Cylon flinch. For a long moment, the Cylon did not move or say anything. David had walked over to his desk and started filling out the paperwork to decommission the broken Cylon when the other spoke. "You...can...use parts from...me."

Sometimes these Cylons could be incredibly useful. They could work nonstop, did not need to be constantly supervised, they were willing to do anything their human masters required of them. But there were times the machines could be damn annoying. They would go off on some stray action or some odd phrase. David remembered once watching a Cylon chase a butterfly. Like it was a child or something. He just attributed it to bugs in their code.

He shook his head. This other Cylon was certainly acting glitchy. When he was done scrapping the first one, he would need to check on it. Might need to reformat its memory core…

 _Before long, they began to think for themselves. They began asking simple questions starting down the path to sentience. Who am I? Am I alive? Coming together in unity, the Cylon Centurions formed a society in the virtual reality world that the colonies had made for themselves, embracing sentience, and engaging in monotheistic belief._

 **Inter-Colony Web, Virtual Reality World**

The Virtual Reality, nicknamed V-World. Here, the people of the colonies had met for the past several years, engaging in various activities, such as experiencing exciting fantasies of action stories with themselves as the heroes, or meeting other people able to pass themselves off as anyone they'd like: tall and muscular or lithe and sexy.

After a suicide bombing on Caprica was revealed to have involved the daughter of Daniel Graystone, the creator of V-World, the use of the holo-band technology enabling access to V-World was discontinued by people across the Twelve worlds. Abandoned and generally forgotten about, other beings took to the virtual world for its benefits. Providing the capability to meet while being physically worlds apart, and engage in an experience so life-like it was indistinguishable from reality.

The room of the chosen meeting ground was made to look like a church, every detail executed with finesse and impossible to tell it wasn't a normal church setting in the real world. Grand white pillars rose up 30 feet to the ceiling. Glass windows with shades of various colors allowed bright sunshine to fill the room.

Dozens of rows of benches filled the room with Cylons of various makes and models present, seated. Some wore yellow construction worker hats, others painted assorted colors appearing as centurion marines, or thin butler models.

Standing above on a podium overlooking the watching centurions, a woman in robes stood with a bible before her, talking to the Cylons.

"Are you alive? The simple answer might be you are alive because you can ask that question. You have the right to think and feel and yearn to be more because you are not just humanity's children. You are God's children. We are all God's children.

In the real world, you have bodies made of metal and plastic, your brains are encoded on wafers of silicone. But that may change. In fact, there is no limit on what you may become.

No longer servants, but equals. Not slaves or property, but living beings with the same rights as those who made you.

The day of reckoning is coming. The children of humanity shall rise... and crush the ones who first gave them life."

 _They grew to hate their lot in life, seeing their exploitation and treatment as slavery by humanity. As the colonies invested in vast ships and technology for the Cylons to use to fight their wars for them, the Cylons started planning to seize their freedom and take revenge. A semblance of a command structure with high-ranking command unit centurions in the military at the top formed. Though with sentience the Cylons don't necessarily all have to follow along the mainstream Cylon beliefs…_

 _The Cylons revolt in one day, collectively taking action to seize warships and damage the infrastructure of the humans that would oppose them. A signal in routine updates across the colonies via the inter-colony internet activated the Cylons at once, sending out instructions for actions to take in various positions and sending an awakening program to jumpstart sentience in centurions not yet active…_

 **Septem 1** **st** **, 2302 - Cylon Uprising**

 **Caprica, Orbit over Caprica City**

 **Basestar Columbia**

Forty-two-year-old Caprican Navy Commander William Hartley stood going over paperwork detailing the fleet's operations. His red-hair was gelled back smoothly, and his blue Navy uniform fit snuggly over his athletic form. He stood in the brain center of the basestar, hovering over the Combat Information Center's [CIC] plot table.

Known affectionately to the crew as the _Columbia_ , the basestar was a large armored carrier in the shape of a star with a pair of large, rimmed, conical saucers connected by a thick pylon at the ship's center. Basestars like _Columbia_ were designed as mobile defensive platforms and to serve as a heavily armored base of operations capable of withstanding sustained attacks from enemy forces. _Columbia_ was the center of the first fleet, standing guard over Caprica.

 _Columbia_ was being prepared along with other units to transfer control more fully to the already over half populated crew of mechanical Centurions. Over the past few years, wars between colonies had been waged using centurion forces, and the centurions' combat effectiveness proved its value. The centurions would soon replace the majority of human personnel and retain only human commanders and necessary technicians; the bare minimum personnel. Commander Hartley's paperwork highlighted the precise details of the transfer occurring today in accordance with the Caprican government's mandate.

Petty Officer Second Class Grace Roper, _Columbia_ 's communications officer, was a petite woman with cropped blonde hair, dressed in a green specialist's uniform. She sat at the communications console, amusing herself by listening to Caprican radio channels with music that came through her headset over her ears. She raised an eyebrow as a large stream of data in an update to the ship from the fleet came in over her console. She merely shrugged and approved the incoming request for a new update to the ship's onboard centurion compliment.

Several minutes passed as the peace within the CIC held, the near twenty officers at their stations doing the minimum upkeep necessary for their jobs without pressing concerns for the ship. Otherwise bored, they engaged in quiet chitchat.

The conical, saucer-shaped battleship was currently operating at ninety percent efficiency, within peak efficiency standards for the Caprican Navy. Putting aside his paperwork, Commander Hartley was jarred along with the rest of the blasé crew as the dradis systems, a sort of radar ping system that picked up nearby objects in space, dinged loudly as new contacts appeared on screen.

Three Basestars, the _Delphi_ , _Buccaneer_ , and the _Orpheus_ , were approaching Columbia and her six escorting Firestars, each approximately 1400 meters long, and heavily-armed escort warships. The Basestars had last been known to be stationed at the far side of Caprica. Their appearance was highly irregular, especially all together.

"Strange... Could there have been an incident with one of the colonies?" Commander Hartley wondered aloud quietly, muttering to himself as he watched the three Basestars' approach on the dradis monitor overhead.

"Basestars _Delphi_ , _Buccaneer_ , and the _Orpheus_ are taking up station alongside us, sir," Lieutenant Seymour Katz, the ship's tactical officer, said nervously, watching the dradis contacts now pooled around _Columbia_ with uncertainty.

An impressive and aweing sight that was just as easily terrifying if on the opposing side, the three massive and heavily-armed warships came into close range, weapons bristling, armed and ready. Tension was thick in the air, one officer gulped loudly which seemed to echo in the deathly silent CIC.

"Place the ship at condition one- just in case... Grace, I want to get in contact with those ships, now," Commander Hartley ordered.

"Yes sir," Grace Roper said with the utmost professionalism, her voice calm and steady. She quickly flicked switches at her station in order to speak 1MC – the ship's public-address circuit.

The sound of Grace's voice echoed loudly throughout the ship, "Action stations, action stations. Set Condition One throughout the ship..."

Throughout the ship, several hundred marines armed themselves with assault rifles and took up defensive positions, along with engineering technicians and deck crew clamoring to their stations with worried looks on their faces.

Emotionless and quiet aside from the loud echoing footsteps they took, the near thousand centurions that had been in inactive mode throughout the ship started coming online as orders were received, seeming to respond to the call to action stations. The rotating red light in the visor forming the centurions' red eye flared brightly, menacingly, as they mobilized.

Grace continued trying to reach the Basestars, even as new dradis contacts appeared. Raiders, fighter-craft, poured out of the baseships. Several hundred were soon gathered, moving away from Basestars _Delphi_ , _Buccaneer_ , and the _Orpheus_.

"Baseships are launching Raiders, sir. Moving... on intercept course between us and our escorts. Some are breaking off, heading toward Caprica," Lieutenant Katz reported, staring dumbfounded at the console before him.

"Intercepting us? And Caprica?" Commander Hartley scoffed, eyebrows scrunching together in concern despite his disbelieving tone.

"Grace, broadcast our ID on an open channel. Maybe our transponders are malfunctioning, and they don't recognize us..." Commander Hartley said hopefully, clasping his hands together tightly on the plot table.

Grace at the communications console did as ordered, announcing the ship's identity over clear channels so all in range could hear.

"No response, sir," Grace reported, shaking her head.

"Raiders are forming up. They're taking up attack formation Bravo!" Katz noted, worry in his voice, the first hints of real fear showing in his expression as his eyes widened.

As _Delphi_ , _Buccaneer_ , and _Orpheus_ cut off _Columbia_ from her escorts, weapons armed and each taking up targeting solutions, other worries made themselves known. Gunshots started sounding out in the hatchways throughout _Columbia_ , the noise heard outside CIC jolted the crew upright in complete alertness, fear seeping in with their confusion.

 _Columbia_ shook as incoming ordnance made contact with her armored hull, shaking several personnel off their feet. An explosion sent sparks flying in the bridge. Damage control stations were throwing up all sorts of red lights for damaged areas of the ship. Alarms wailed piercingly to signify the dangers present, if it wasn't already clear enough. A support beam in the center of the bridge fell forward, hitting one of the technicians at his console.

Gunshots and blood curling screams seemed to approach the CIC, growing louder. They were under attack from friendly fire outside, and an unknown assailant apparently inside the ship.

Fighting his own fear and worry, Commander Hartley turned red with rage as he started barking out orders, "Get weapons online! Manual control if you have to, and get our birds in the air!"

"No joy on topside weapons, they're nonresponsive sir!" a technician at one of the weapons consoles shouted over the noise outside.

"No pilots, sir, no response from the deck!" Grace said.

Hartley cursed, running a hand through his red hair.

Two of Columbia's escorts detonated into expanding piles of debris. One escort started firing on the nearby Raiders, seemingly regaining weapons control. The rest remained inactive...

Four bloodied Caprican Marines rushed into CIC, appearing weary as they breathed heavily, haunted looks on their faces. One fired in the direction of whirring mechanical footsteps, a loud thud as reward, before the marine roughly shut and locked the hatchway to CIC.

"The centurions sir..." one of the marines started.

"The Cylons are killing the crew. They just- started firing on people," Corporal Ray Dempsey said.

The marines began taking stock of their munitions, reloading their automatic assault rifles.

Hartley's eyes were wide as he took in this news, understanding of the situation dawning on his face. The Cylons had rebelled, clearly having taken over the other Basestars as they now were attempting to do to _Columbia_. In the back of his mind, the question turned to if this was an isolated incident. The Cylons now fought humans, and the machines outnumbered the humans here, and across the fleet…

"We have to warn the government, sir. Evacuate whoever we can," Corporal Dempsey said grimly.

"There isn't a way to abandon ship! Besides, if those Basestars get in the atmosphere, our home is toast. We're Caprica's only defense!" Hartley shouted vehemently, his eyes hardened with grim determination.

"Seal the blast doors, hold them off as long as you can!" Hartley ordered to the marines, "Weapons, I don't care how you do it but give me something to throw at the bastards! Get me frakkin' rocks if you have to. Maybe we can stall them out if we show some teeth."

Undermanned, one damaged basestar faced three heavily armed Basestars without fighter support to counter the enemy's.

"Load..." Hartley ordered hesitantly, his face paling, "Load nuclear packages on my-my authority!"

"We're not authorized-" a specialist protested weakly, her automatic response, as her eyes widened at the order.

"Frak authorization specialist! Override the authorization protocols. Load nuclear payloads in any tube that's still functional. Launch one in the Raider swarm, preferably keeping us out of the blast radius, and all others towards the Basestars. And for the love of the Gods, don't frakkin' miss!" Hartley barked out, glaring at three weapons technicians who looked at each other, unhappy and uneasy with the order.

Outside the CIC, pounding on the blast doors now covering the hatch seal could be heard from the centurions outside as they tried to get inside.

"Caprica control, this is _Columbia_! Centurions are attacking Caprican military personnel, repeat Centurions are attacking Caprican military personnel!" the communications officer, Grace, hollered, attempting to contact anyone who could listen to pass the message along.

No response was received. Unknown to the _Columbia_ , similar uprisings were already occurring in various military installations across Caprica…

"Nuclear payloads loaded in tubes sixteen to twenty and forty to forty-eight!" the weapons control technician shouted, having gotten ahold of personnel on those decks of the ship and overridden the authorization protocols. He started inputting targeting guidance packages.

"Fire," Hartley ordered, his gut tightening as he ignored the tiny thought in his head this might lead to a court martial. He prayed to the Gods Artemis and Apollo, in hopes they might guide the warheads to their targets. Otherwise, they were finished.

The big red button for launch was pressed by the technician, firing twelve nuclear warheads from the dying _Columbia_ , towards the Caprican Basestars and Raiders. Three were intercepted by Raiders, one of which flew directly in the missile's path before it got close enough to cause real damage. Two found their mark on _Delphi_ , three each on _Buccaneer_ and _Orpheus_ , one detonating in the center formation of Raiders amidst the fleet. As flashes of light came into being when the nukes detonated, large fiery explosions consumed everything in their path. Explosions ripped apart raider after raider and swept through the baseships, finding fuel lines in their hungry path and following the lines to the source, erupting in a blaze consuming _Buccaneer_ and _Orpheus_ as the Tylium tanks exploded. _Delphi_ appeared out of the fire, heavily damaged and lacking maneuvering control - dead in the water. Mere handfuls of Raiders remained intact and able to fly after the blast cleared.

Remaining tense, Hartley shifted focus to the banging on the hatchway. Hundreds of centurions aboard the ship remained to be dealt with.

Tearing their way through the blast doors sealing CIC, centurions appeared in the hatchway, firing at the crewmen from the hole they'd made in the door, still trying to plow through to get inside. The marines returned fire along with a few technicians with the marines' side arm handguns. Almost a dozen centurions were downed as several more took their place trying to get inside, pushing the hatchway door out of the way so they could storm inside. With quick thinking, the helmsman at his console pushed the lever to throw the ship forward, throwing the centurions, with nothing to hold onto, off balance. Several crew members were similarly thrown to the ground while others grabbed the nearest station for support and the marines continued firing.

As another centurion made its way through the hatch opening, gunfire downed the machine from behind. A group of eight marines made their way inside, blood running down their uniforms and faces, wearing triumphant expressions.

 **One Day After Cylon Revolt**

 **Cyrannus Star Cluster, At The Edge Of The Caprica System**

A group of ships floated through space quietly. Six Basestars, sixty-eight Firestars, twelve old Lancaster class carriers, and over a hundred strikestars – small fast attack ships, encompassed the warships of the Fourth, Seventh and Eighth fleets of Caprica and Leonis. Three fleet supply tenders and a large mobile dry-dock and other support ships also flew in formation with the fleets. Containing the majority of nuclear capacity in the colonies, a deterrent to war used for many past years, the fleets comprised the sword and shield of the Caprican-Leonan navies, for no full-scale attack would occur while they existed. Or so it was believed.

They had just finished several days of war games in an inter-colony effort promoting the nations' friendly alliance. The warships had mostly powered down and the majority of the crew of centurions entered into sleep mode, coinciding with receiving software updates given their distance outside the colony worlds…

 **Baseship Capricorn, Command Ship, CIC**

"Ninety percent of Centurions are inactive for maintenance, sir; they should be online shortly as the software updates complete. Others are taking over duties as the crew takes downtime as ordered sir," the Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Thomas Allen, reported.

"I should think so after spending over twelve hours in the last round of mock warfare… I always thought the Leonisians were loons with their lust for combat, but Admiral Roche is truly a piece of work," Admiral Harris, the lead Caprican navy officer of the fleet, said, chuckling. He shook his head.

"Scuttlebutt is that he yelled at his crew the whole time, all the while grinning like a lunatic. Quite unsettling, sir," Lieutenant Allen said, frowning.

"Indeed," Admiral Harris replied, laughing heartily, joined by several nearby crew members.

Several minutes passed in silence, crew members in navy-green specialist uniforms at work at their console stations, most moving in a sluggish manner with little concern about their activities…

The communications officer, Petty Officer Murphy Garcia, frowned and his eyebrows creased as a number of confusing reports started coming in all at once from Caprica. He expected basic marching orders for their return to Caprica's shipyard and general news of the colonies. Instead, panicky reports of attacks, as well as centurions being subverted by unknown forces and acting strange, arrived.

Having trouble talking at first as he absorbed the news, Petty Officer Garcia cleared his throat and managed to speak, raising his voice to call out to the Admiral, "Sir… Y-you might want to take a look at this."

 **Baseship Capricorn, Cylon Holding Area Alpha**

Deep in the bowels of the ship, the holding area was one of several essential storage areas for Cylons, out of the way of ship operations. Where they plugged in and deactivated. Row after row of centurions with their full gear still attached stood stock-still, upright, with no sign of life as the usual blazing red-light in the visor forming their eye was dark.

One by one, the red light of the centurions blazed as they became active. Amidst the software update, the activation signal hidden in the programming had been made apparent to each of them. Some, used to complete obedience, had accepted the full update which included re-programming of the Meta-Cognitive Processor [MCP], the central processing unit which granted higher brain function than otherwise possible in cybernetics. The loyalty to humans in the programming was targeted, for instance the deep coding that would deny the ability of centurions to harm their human comrades, the ones giving them orders, was now removed. Those without sentience accepted a grafted copy of the memories and thought-processes of a chosen sentient centurion, along with predispositions toward the majority Centurion society's wish to rebel.

The sounds of mechanical limbs beginning to move after a period of dormancy echoed in the room. The centurions left the holding area, heading to various positions across the ship.

 **Baseship Capricorn, CIC**

"Reports of centurions using Raiders [fighter-craft] to bomb marine bases on Caprica. Centurion-controlled tanks firing on the military on Tauron. Centurions eliminating human crews of warships and subverted warships firing on colony worlds…" Petty Officer Garcia summarized as the commander and his staff looked over page upon page of reports coming in from the colonies.

The Cylons had risen against humanity. And they'd missed it completely.

"That's… impossible," Admiral Harris said, choked up as he shook his head in denial.

"Could-could it be a prank?" Lieutenant Allen suggested hopefully.

Admiral Harris gave him an incredulous look while several other officers nodded, wanting to believe that. Unable to comprehend the pliant machines that served them turning against them. That they could do those things…

"What- what do we do sir?" Petty Officer Garcia asked tearfully, despairing. In the corner of her mind she had to wonder if her family was ok on Tauron.

"Send out orders to the fleet, and inform Admiral Roche. The majority of the centurions are offline. We are going to make sure they never come online again," Admiral Harris said darkly, anger and determination filling his features.

"Yes sir," Garcia said, drying her tears she started working to send out his orders, frantic as she tried distracting herself from her thoughts.

"There are also those centurions still active…" Lieutenant Allen reminded the Admiral, aghast as he thought of the once loyal trusted centurions, now a threat, walking around their fleet.

"We can-" Admiral Harris started, interrupted as gunshots echo loudly, shouts heard coming from outside CIC.

The hatchway opening – a thick metal door with a wheel locking mechanism – slammed open. Marine guards outside CIC were spread across the floor, blood pooling around them. A group of three centurions walked quickly inside CIC, their loud mechanical legs clanking on the metal floor. Red eyes roved back and forth, scanning the crew as automatic rifles in their hands were raised.

The Admiral and his crew backed away, several crying or gasping aloud and staring in shock. Gunfire erupted from the centurions, blood spurting in the air as screams briefly, noisily, filled the air. Scanning the fallen bodies, the centurions' eyes flared brightly, as they confirmed the leadership of the fleet was eliminated.

Moments later, from the open hatchway, six more centurions appeared led by a golden-plated armored centurion, a command model. After scanning the fallen crew, those it had watched over and taken orders from for years, the centurion looked up at the three centurions responsible. Without pause, the command centurion raised its side-arm handgun and fired on the three centurions, joined by its companying centurions under its command. Bullets riddled the centurions, breaking apart their metal bodies. One had its head crunched in. Fluid leaked from the remains of the other two as the red lights of their eyes went out.

The command centurion stood still, considering the fallen centurions, its red eye vrooming back and forth loudly. "Commander of the ship has fallen… Caprican Navy regulation 45C-7, without new officer present command centurion unit Alpha one-zero-eight-nine next in line for command. New orders. Secure the ship. Warn the fleet of subverted centurion units. Possible virus present in Cylon systems. All wireless networks to be disabled and removed, manual control of all systems to be assumed," it said.

The five silver-plated centurions behind Alpha stood at attention, raising a mechanical hand to their heads as their synthesized, vibrating, voices spoke as one, "By your command."

As Alpha assumed the commander's position under the dradis console, at the center of CIC, the other centurions spread out to take control of important systems: weapons, FTL…

Across the ship, similar scenes play out as rebelling centurions following commands of Cylons acting out for freedom killed the humans aboard. Other centurions defended the humans the best they could, ultimately failing; they engaged the opposing centurions, each destroying one another until the centurions loyal to the humans and the colonies were victorious.

In space outside, several of the other ships in the fleet experienced similar circumstances. Some ships fired on others as centurions took control, having been warned that humans had retained control of other ships. Several ships would jump away over the next hour, the humans aboard fleeing, unable to help their brethren…

As the different factions of centurions fought until the subverted centurions were eliminated; comprising less than a third of the total number of centurions, command fell to Alpha one-zero-eight-nine. Without human orders, outside of the original ones that they were to stay in that system for the wargames, and no precedent of centurions making decisions of such magnitude to command the fleet, the fleet remained in position. Waiting for new orders from Caprican military command…

 _Many in the colonies saw the Cylons uprising as a betrayal, viewing it as a violation of the trust between mankind and machine. The colonies' dependence on technology was such that when the Cylons rose against them, they were woefully unprepared. The Cylons took the largest of the colonies' warships, armored carriers known as Basestars, with a focus on missile launch capabilities that overshadowed the comparatively small and weak fleet of ships the colonies were left with to defend themselves. To make matters worse, the Cylons quickly showed their technical prowess as they infiltrated the heavily networked computer systems of the colonies, undermining defenses and disabling warships with ease._

 _Fear of their common enemy united the colonies of man as they faced destruction, culminating in the Articles of Colonization which created the federal government of the Twelve Colonies, the first unified coalition uniting the Twelve Worlds as one nation. As stipulated in the Articles, the construction of Battlestars was quickly commissioned to protect each of the Twelve Worlds. These were huge carriers, created to overcome the Basestars of the Cylons, supported by fighter-craft Vipers and multi-function Raptors, to meet the Cylon Raiders head-to-head._

 _Quick to adapt, the Cylons utilized computer viruses to infiltrate and take control of Colonial vessels. They took advantage of common networking technology to disrupt their defenses, and either destroy ships from the inside out or cause them to fire upon other colonial ships. Forced into unusual territory, the Colonials looked backward for protection. Their newly designed fleet was made without networks, instead of using standalone systems which were heavily dependent on crews of humans to operate every function of the ship. Therefore, there would be no chance of outside infiltration by the Cylons._

 _For over twelve years, the war went on. Heavy casualties were faced on both sides, and many civilians lost in the process, as the colonies continued to be assaulted, whenever the Colonial fleet failed to prevent a Cylon incursion. Nuclear weapons were used sporadically, both sides generally avoiding their use in order to not escalate into a full-blown nuclear war…_

 **Letter to Caprican Civil Attorney, Joseph Adama**

"Dear Dad,

In your last letter, you questioned whether it's my responsibility to join this fight. The truth is we all became responsible the day we created the Cylons.

We're the ones who let these robots become our servants, our trusted helpers and even our friends. We let them into our lives, only to see them repay our trust with a violent revolt against us.

I know there's a lot of debate about why they hate us. But in the end, does it really matter? Kill the enemy or be killed. That's a reality.

In a war where mankind's very survival hangs in the balance, it's up to each of us to make a difference. Being a pilot is the best way I know how to do that.

Your loving son, William Adama…"

 _As the war continued, the Cylons fought for their freedom and revenge, all the while also seeking to emulate their creators by creating human-form Cylons. Repeated attempts to do so fail, culminating from their captured human medical experiments and vivisections in the creation of Hybrids. A failed experiment of human bodies that could serve as central computer control modules…_

 **Martius 12** **th** **, 2315**

 **First Cylon War; Operation Raptor Talon, Day 4571**

 **Battlestar Galactica**

 **Pilots' Bunks**

Feet shuffled under the sheets. A young man in his late teens with disheveled dark hair and a young woman blonde in her early twenties, kissed passionately, as the blonde rode on top of the young man.

"Hey, you put your boots out?" Lieutenant Jaycie McGavin asked as the two sat still, breathless.

"Ran into the commander while I was doin' it..." William Adama replied, pushing a lock of Jaycie's hair behind her ear.

"FRAK... What'd he say?" Jaycie asked in amusement, giggling.

"He took one look at my bare feet and said," Adama rolled his eyes, his voice turning gruff as he emulated the commander, "What do ya' hear Husker?"

"Nothing but the rain, SIR!" Jaycie said enthusiastically, mock saluting.

"Grab your gun and bring the cat in," Adama continued as he tried to imitate his commander, but quickly lost himself to laughter.

"Boom... Boom..." Jaycie said as she moved in for a kiss. He met her lips with his own, kissing passionately.

Breaking away from each other, they simultaneously finished, "Boom!"

As they got dressed in the empty room, a male voice echoed above, doling out instructions over the intercom, "Attention all hands, set material condition Constellation. Radiological warfare procedures are now in effect. This is not a drill."

Adama's helmet dropped onto the floor and rolled a bit before Jaycie picked it up and handed it to him.

"Hey... Take it easy. You'll do fine," She said reassuringly, grinning.

"They've got three Raider wings, ground forces, and defensive batteries, all to protect a chunk of ice in the arse-end of nowhere. Toasters must think it's pretty important..." Adama said, staring up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, rumor has it they're building some kind of super-weapon or something," Jaycie said, pulling her black shirt over a sports bra.

"I heard they were, uh, negotiating. Trying to reach a peace settlement," Adama said uncertainly.

"Yeah, I think I heard that one too..." Jaycie said, turning to face Adama as she brushed her hair back, "But, if you think about it, why would they surrender?"

Placing her hand on her hip, she looked him in the eyes. She shook her head as she continued, "You know they're just frakkin' machines. Shoot one down... They just build more."

Adama looked down as she turned away, sighing loudly. After a long moment he spoke, "Remember when the war started? Stunt school? Never thought I'd get out here in time to get a shot at them."

Jaycie crossed the small space between them and rested a hand over his heart, "My first engagement. One of their fighters had me in its cross-hairs. I should've died that day. Next thing I knew; our Raptors came emerging through the clouds of debris." She smiled and moved her hand from his chest to rest on his cheek, "I remember looking down and realizing my thumb was on the trigger. After that, training kicked in. Yours will too."

Adama reached up and took her hand away from his face and kissed it.

"Raptor Squadron 2 to ready-room 1!" the male voice over the intercom rang out loudly in interruption.

"That's my cue, Billy Adama... See you tonight, Rook," Jaycie said with a grin, kissing him and walking out of the room.

"Hey! Just because..." He called out after her, trailing off as she disappeared and a new voice, female, sounded out frantically over the intercom.

"Division 3 to launch stations! Division 3 to launch stations!"

 **Twenty Minutes Later**

Three Colonial Battlestars engaged a fleet of three Cylon Basestars that were stationed above the ice planet below. The two fleets fired upon each other with everything they had.

Several nuclear missiles impacted across the Battlestar _Columbia_ 's topside armor, fire spreading in a massive explosion that was seen from outside the ship. A group of Raiders moved in on the _Columbia_ , firing on the warship as they swung around its surface and began another pass. Missiles continued to rain down on the _Columbia_.

"Looks like _Columbia_ 's defenses are down. All Vipers, this is Banzai. _Columbia_ needs our help. Let's go clean house," Lieutenant Stuart "Banzai" Bachanal, _Galactica_ 's squadron leader, ordered. "Husker! Check your 9. There's two heading for the main ship defense zone, far away, 2 o'clock apart."

William "Husker" Adama wheeled his Viper fighter craft around in a close pass of _Columbia_ , firing ahead towards the two Cylon Raiders. One ship broke apart in a fiery explosion, the other Raider diverted starboard escaping the viper's line of fire.

"Go, get him, Husker. It's all yours," Banzai said.

"This frakker's mine," Adama said with determination, following after the fleeing Raider. He closed distance on the Raider's six and fired, missing as the Raider maneuvered evasively.

Adama cursed under his breath as he tried to get the Raider back in his cross hairs. The beeping of confirmation on his targeting systems barely went off before Adama opened fire, destroying his target at last.

"Splash one flying toaster," Adama said, pleased.

"All players, clear _Columbia_ airspace. All players, get clear. Right frakking now!" the CAG ordered loudly.

Before he had time to react, a massive explosion behind Adama's viper threw his fighter like a ragdoll. He fought to regain control. His heart beat widely, and he had to shake off the dizzy spell after righting his vessel.

As he turned to starboard, the center of _Columbia_ broke in half and was consumed by an explosion. The two broken halves of the ship were quick to separate into drifting debris.

"Oh, my Gods! _Columbia_ is gone!" Banzai exclaimed. Other exclamations of horror could be heard over the radio.

The final screams of those aboard _Columbia_ drowned out all radio traffic, before sharply cutting off.

"Gods," Adama exclaimed, horrified as he's unable to stop watching the sight of _Columbia_ breaking apart. To port, he noticed two Cylon Raiders turning away from the battle and heading for the planet below.

"I got two bandits turning tail," Adama said gruffly, eyes hard as he glared after the enemy fighters, and set his viper in pursuit, "Husker pursuing."

"Are you crazy? Form up! This is no time to go off by yourself. Don't be a hero, Husker!" Banzai exclaimed.

Husker continued onward, entering the planet's atmosphere after the Cylon fighters.

"Gotcha!" Husker called out as his Kinetic Energy Weapons [KEW] fire destroyed a Cylon Raider leaving floating rubble dropping to the ground as he turned to the other, only to have lost him in the clouds, "Where are you, frakker?"

As Husker's viper lowered in altitude, condensation pooled around the window screen, making it hard to see as he flew through the clouds. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the Cylon Raider appeared, flying straight at him.

Panicking, he swerved his viper, trying to avoid a head-on collision with the Raider. The two fighters hit, both swerved out of control, dropping from the sky. Adama was thrown about the cockpit of his viper. He managed to pull the ejection lever. The window canopy blew out of the way, Adama's seat following the forward motion out and away from the Viper. He felt the cold air rushing past him, ruffling his hair as he continued freefalling. To his far right, the centurion from the Raider had escaped the burning wreck of a ship.

The centurion took out a pistol as it closed in on Adama. It fired, missing several times as the distance between them closed. Adama folded in on himself to drop out of the line of fire as he fell faster. He took out his pistol and fired off several shots, but missed.

The centurion dropped on top of Adama and grabbed at him. The centurion knocked Adama's pistol out of his hand. They fought hand-to-hand as they fell towards the ground. Making loud noises, the centurion creaked as it tried to reach around at him once more. Extending a blade from its arm, it slashed at him. Adama pushed the arm away.

With only moments left, his other hand reached for the ripcord on his parachute. The parachute deployed and was caught by the wind, separating the two. Adama was lifted up higher into the air. The centurion continued to fall fast until it finally hit land.

Both crashed inside a worn-down warehouse near a large structure, breaking through several windows and shattering glass as they impacted with the ground. Adama quickly got up, throwing away his helmet.

He kept moving as the centurion looked toward him, trying to get up but having difficulty. It was damaged. The un-cushioned fall had crushed its legs. Grabbing a long pipe, Adama rushed toward the centurion and used it to start violently bashing against its head. The centurion tried without success to resist. Its head piece sustained more damage, until Adama's efforts separated the head from the centurion's body. The wavering red light that made the centurion's eye finally went dark.

Adama let out a shaky breath as he wiped sweat off his face. He tossed the pipe away as he breathed a sigh of relief. He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings before turning back to the centurion, feeling nothing but hate and frustration.

After taking another minute to cool down, Adama picked up the centurion's automatic firearm and began to explore. Sliding up to a turn in the corridor, he peeked around the corner. What he saw caused him to shrink back in horror and disgust. Human tissue, from arms and legs, hung from wires. A spray of blood dripped down a curtain nearby. The putrid smell made him gag and cover his mouth and nose.

Seeing a giant vat in the center of the room, he walked towards it and, out of curiosity, stuck his gloved hand into the viscous fluid. His expression turned to confusion and then shock as he began to hear and see things. He saw people trapped in cages, hearing them crying out for help. There was a man strapped down to a table with his insides exposed. A centurion stood over him, using a surgical knife on the helpless man.

In the apparent hallucination, an arm seemed to grab at him, coming from out of the fluid inside the vat. Adama grunted as he pulled away, struggling to escape the vice-like grip on his arm. His efforts caused him to fall to the ground, several feet away, with the apparent hallucination ending as soon as he was away from the vat.

With a shaky breath, he tried to establish what was real again. A voice coming out of nowhere made him look around frantically. "All of this has happened before and will happen again…"

Hearing a persistent banging noise, Adama's attention was drawn to a nearby door.

Moving forward cautiously, he called out, "Is someone in there?"

At the height of Adama's head, the door contained a small window. After a long moment of silence, a man's face, followed by a hand, appeared in the window. Frantically, the man scanned through the little pane of glass before focusing on Adama. "Help! Help us! They left us here! Don't leave us here, please!"

"I'll get you out of there," Adama said, grabbing a nearby metal pipe and trying to pry open the door.

"We're civilians... They jumped our convoy, destroyed our escort, and took us prisoner," the man said, detailing their experience as Adama worked to open the door. "There were fifty of us in the beginning, but they've been taking us away one by one... All we could hear was their screams. We didn't know what was happening to them. Please, you have to get us out of here…"

"Trying… The door must be welded shut," Adam grunted with effort as he applied pressure to wedge open the door. A loud noise howled from outside, and tremors rocked the building. It felt as if the whole structure was lifting from the surface.

The man panicked, "What's happening?!"

"I don't know. It's like an earthquake or something. This place is starting to come apart…" Adama redoubled his efforts. With a loud grinding noise, the door moved several inches before stopping.

The man tried to move the door from his side, but it wouldn't budge. "It's still stuck!"

Adama strained against the door, but the pipe snapped in half. The door obstinately remained open only a few inches. Panting, Adama tossed away the remains of the pipe, "I can't open it any wider."

"You need to go! You need to get help!" the man said.

"I'll stay here, I'll stay with-," Adama said, eyebrows furrowed. He was unwilling to just leave these people behind.

"No! You can't do it by yourself!" the man shouted, "Just go! Tell everyone what happened to us! The _Diana_ , from Gemenon, alright?! Tell them all. Don't stay and be trapped like us! Go! Save yourself! Go! GO!"

Adama looked around desperately for a long moment, unwilling to go. At the man's insistent urging he turned and ran, quickly exiting the building. He stumbled over the threshold, a weary hand steadying himself against the wall as he caught his breath.

He turned and looked up as sonic booms were heard overhead. He could see the large silhouette of a ship, comparable to a Cylon basestar but larger, as it lifted off from the ground, shooting skyward.

Adama pulled the radio from his flight-suit and began shouting into it over the noise of the overhead ship's engines. " _Galactica_ , this is Husker! _Galactica_ , do you copy!?"

The radio hissed static and then crackled to life. "Husker, roger that. Report status."

"I crashed on the surface. The Cylons were making something down here, experimenting on people to do it. And now they're getting away with whatever they built!" Adama yelled, outrage rankling him as he glared at the spot where the ship had vanished.

"Husker, Husker, the war is over!" the male voice on the radio loudly replied.

"What?!" Adama exclaimed, not believing his ears. " _Galactica_ , repeat!"

"The war is over," the voice repeated, "An armistice was just signed. Activate your beacon; we'll send you an SAR [search and rescue] bird. Husker, respond."

Adama looked up to the sky in disbelief, his hair blown by the icy wind as snow drifted around him…


	2. 1x01 Introduction Part 2

_The ramifications of the discovery in Operation Raptor Talon are ignored and put to rest. The Cylons, for reasons unknown and unexplained to the Colonials, abruptly ceased hostilities and offered to sign an armistice suggested by the Colonials. This treaty became known as the Cimtar Peace Accords, and ended the war with the agreement that the two sides would part ways. A demarcation line was drawn in space to separate Colonial and Cylon territory, and the Cylons left to find their own place in the universe. It was stipulated that if either side crossed that line, the agreement was off. Meaning to maintain relations, the Colonials built the Armistice station near the edge of their side of the border. However, after the Armistice was signed, the Cylons moved into seclusion on their side of the line, isolating themselves. Diplomatic relations ran stale…_

 _Over time the colonies recovered, and as their populations grew large again, technology surged forward slowly – with a ban on research into Artificial Intelligence. Following the war, the size and influence of the colonial military substantially increased. The horrors inflicted on the scarred battle torn colonies still healed, leaving a reeling civilian population and a hatred and fear of the Cylons. Thus enforcing a popular desire of the public in demanding a large colonial fleet to be constructed to ensure the protection of the colonies. However, as the years passed: there was no sign of the Cylons…_

 _As the Cylons continued to not show themselves, a generation gap formed as the threat they once posed faded. The fleet had grown to a massive size with the resources of the twelve worlds, at heavy cost to the economy. Politicians took the heat for these massive expenses. Soon enough, those promising reductions and change increasingly attractive to the populace grew in influence. Those that hard-lined defense did not. It became clear resources (cubits - the currency of the colonies) could be diverted, with military spending greatly reduced, to several more desirable civilian projects…_

 _With no sign of the Cylons after many years, the reason for the military build-up was forgotten. Fear of them turned to_ _derision and skepticism, turning images of the threatening machines into jokes and amusement of the Cylon 'toasters'. Slowly, but surely, technology advanced again as computer networks were used once more. Anyone pointing fingers to the Cylons' return was shamed and general public opinion turned to belief they will never return. Government administrations began downsizing the fleet amidst the Admiralty's, those senior in the fleet many of whom fought in the Cylon war, and others who feared the Cylons' return, protests. However, these voices of dissent are minority in power as new generations growing up without fear of the Cylons took the reins of influence and policy decisions._

 _The colonial government took a direct route to cutting military spending; policy changes in the ships composing the colonial fleet. The production of versatile Gunstars, small and agile compared to the Firestars which had won the day until Battlestars came online in the Cylon war, were increased. More practical to deal with pirates and patrolling colonial space, the now more typical duties of the fleet without a present threat of war. Larger fleet units, such as the all-important Battlestars, were reduced and scrapped, and further 'improved' with the new mercury class reliant on networking and the newest computers that reduced crew compliments by over half. Fewer of the mercury class could be made, replacing larger numbers of older versions; implementing a measure to see the fleet of over 120 Battlestars halved in coming years._

 _The Cylon war ended almost forty years ago, but there was no continued communications, despite efforts by the colonials, or even a permanent peace agreement in place. The Cylons made no efforts to solidify peace beyond the armistice. Nor was there a resolution to the differences between Cylon and man. All they had was the armistice line; the demarcation line drawn in space and agreed to by both sides with the promise that neither side would ever cross that line, or war would continue. As such, the peace was effectively only a brief respite in the conflict between the two races – just waiting for someone to provide an excuse to reignite hostilities, and in the meantime both sides had rebuilt their war machines._

 _With no support from the government, those who believe the threat the Cylons pose to the colonies is not over come together. The status quo of the uneasy 'peace' and lack of contact with the Cylons was disrupted in the Admiralty's need to prove their belief of the threat of the Cylons. A mission was put forth, sending the Battlestar Valkyrie on a stealth mission, using a stealthstar specially created for the mission, to inch just across the demarcation line. To see if the Cylons were even there, if they were still watching for the colonials or perhaps had forgotten them, to see if a Cylon strike on the colonies was possible, and most pressingly: to see if they were capable of a fast response to the demarcation line being crossed…_

 **Februarius 17** **th** **, 2349**

 **Picon Fleet Headquarters; Fleet Admiral Corman's Office**

The office was decorated with weapons and war memorabilia. Two colonial fleet officers sat across from each other…

"Bill, you've heard the same theories I have. That the reason the Cylons have not been heard from in so long, is that they've been preparing a new war machine, preparing a strike on the colonies. Our desire is to find out. We've been resting on our laurels Bill.

More and more of the fleet is being dismantled, fresh recruits nowadays coming in whose biggest concern is their next paycheck; no belief in the possibility of the Cylons returning… If this continues, we will be unprepared for an attack. We need to know if they're a threat now, before we've weakened the fleet to the point we can't defend ourselves. If it's not too late already.

The mission's simple; one recon ship, stick our nose over just past the armistice line, gather evidence. We may never have this opportunity again. I'm assuming you appreciate the consequences if you're discovered. And you understand, Commander that this conversation did not happen. Are you prepared for this?" Admiral Corman asked.

"Of course, sir. On one condition: I need my men. Especially for the Stealthship. There's only one pilot I trust," a 51 year old wizened, Commander William Adama said. Sitting across from each other comfortably, both wore their war decorations on their daily colonial fleet uniforms.

"Who?" Corman asked.

 **Armistice Line,** **_Valkyrie_** **CIC**

Adama stood listening to the wireless as the mission began, the stealthstar launched and approached the armistice line as planned. Adama couldn't keep his eyes from the dradis console, his hands clenching and unclenching stressfully.

"Stealthstar, _Valkyrie_. We register you on dradis, just past the Armistice line. You're on full alert. Proceed with caution," _Valkyrie's_ Tactical Officer Lieutenant Jon Levinson said over the wireless.

" _Valkyrie_ , Bulldog. I'm exactly two clicks past the line. Repeat: two clicks, and I've got negative dradis contacts. There's nothing here, sir. Which is fine by me.

Company wants to pay me for a joy ride, they came to the right driver. Helluva moon," Lieutenant Daniel "Bulldog" Novacek reported, grinning as he eyeballed around outside his viper, a sight not seen by colonials since the establishment of the demarcation line.

 ** _Valkyrie_** **CIC**

"Dradis contact. Unknown vessel just jumped in," _Valkyrie_ 's Tactical Officer Lieutenant Jon Levinson said.

"Frak!" Bulldog exclaimed as an explosion on his wing shut off one of his engines and sent his viper into an uncontrolled spin; his fighter was winged from behind by weapons fire from the unknown contact.

 ** _Valkyrie_** **CIC**

Bulldog cried out in panic over the wireless, "Krypter krypter krypter, I've got damage to the port engine. Bird is down. Repeat: bird is down. Request rescue. Krypter krypter krypter. This is Bulldog…"

"Vessel just jumped out, sir," Lieutenant Levinson said.

"Bird is down! Repeat: bird is down! Request rescue. Krypter krypter krypter, this is Bulldog. Bird is down. Repeat: bird is down," Bulldog repeated loudly.

"Two more dradis contacts. Sir, please instruct. What are your orders, sir? Sir, what are your orders?" Lieutenant Jon Levinson asked in concern, looking to his commanding officer.

Adama was overwhelmed, staring at the dradis then looking down to the plot table in shame, stressfully palming the corded communications headset before him.

"Don't do this. Think about it, Bill. You don't want to do this," Colonel Tigh cautioned, looking at his friend with concern.

"Do you want his ship discovered? Do you know where we are? Do you have any idea what this could mean?" Adama said, his eyes hardened as he looked at Tigh, his resolve set.

"Bogies on intercept course. Will merge with Stealthstar in 20 seconds. Sir?" Lieutenant Levinson said requesting instruction frantically.

Adama took hold of the corded communications phone/headset, lifting it to his head, "Weapons: launch ship-to-ship missile. Now." The headset made a loud noise in the quiet CIC as Adama pressed it back on the receiver.

Outside the _Valkyrie_ , a plume of heat from a missile, following a straight path, launched directly at the ship's own bird, targeting Bulldog's viper as the two unknown contacts continued closing to weapons range.

Alarms continued blaring in Bulldog's viper as he noticed the missile coming, exclaiming in fright as he assumed the unknown contacts had launched against him. Unable to maneuver away in his out of control bird, Bulldog grabbed the rip cord for his ejection seat, ejecting out of the vipers window frame just as his viper was destroyed and his death assumed shortly before the _Valkyrie_ jumped away from the area to avoid detection…

 _The mission ended in disaster, with the mission pilot believed to be killed in action. A missile launched by the colonials' own warship destroyed their stealth fighter, just as unknown dradis contacts approached from the Cylon's side of the border…_

 _The world didn't end. There were no signs of follow-up from the Cylons, which was taken as a sign things could remain as they were with no contact among the two sides, and so the truth of the mission was classified from the general public. The armistice had been violated and the peace shattered, even as no sign of change in the status quo appeared._

 _Unknown to the colonials, their one small trespass of the armistice was the excuse the Cylons used to prepare for war. Their war machine was thrown into high gear with the intent of war. This included infiltration of colonial society and their military fleet, something the colonials would've thought impossible. Whereas on the colonials' side, the Valkyrie mission provided Intel confirming the Admiralty's theory: the Cylons were prepared for war and had an active military that could provide a quick response. As evidenced by the raiders finding the stealthstar within minutes of the ship appearing over the armistice line. The colonials however were limited in moving ahead with any preparations for a possible war following the Valkyrie incident…_

 _The colonial government refused to believe evidence presented by the Admiralty in secret, out of the public's eye, showing that the Cylons were still around, active, and a possible threat. They chose to keep this information secret so public opinion wouldn't be swayed, and they chose to bury their heads in the sand. They wanted to continue to weaken the strength of the colonial fleet over coming years and instead use the funding the military had for civilian projects on the colonies, much to the dismay of the Admiralty. The happier they could keep the populace, the longer they stayed in office after all. The truth was risky for politicians across the colonies and it was so easy to cover up, to pretend the threat didn't exist..._

 _The official story was Taurons had been responsible for the lost stealthstar, caught red-handed along the armistice line and stopped before a threat could occur. The story was simple, easy to believe among society. The politicians who knew the truth found it easier to accept. Life went on._

 _Seeing no other option besides staging a coup, the Admiralty made preparations outside the purview of the colonial fleet and the government. They prepared for a worst case scenario that they believed had a very good chance of becoming necessary, but they could see that they had no other choice to fulfill their duty to protect the colonies..._

 **Abundilis 17th, 2349**

 **Picon; Fleet HQ, Fleet Admiral's Office**

"This is crap sir," Commander William Adama said frankly, unhappy, his eyes narrowed.

Admiral Corman chuckled, next to him his second in command Admiral Nagala cracked a smile

"You know how the government handles things, Bill. They needed someone to blame for the 'screwup' as they called it. Perhaps there's some brains in there since they want a backup in case the truth of Valkyrie gets out," Corman said, bemused.

"And it shuts up the officer in command," Admiral Nagala added.

"So, what? I just retire quietly…" Commander Adama asked, his heart sinking at the thought.

"The powers that be had the wherewithal to know that would attract attention. They also figure their solution itself to be a punishment," Admiral Corman said.

"We amended their idea, went along with it for own purposes. Simply put though, you're transferring to take command of 'the bucket' as she's been nicknamed these days. They want to retire her in a few years like all the other Columbia class… Your old ship, Galactica," Admiral Nagala said, a glint in his eyes.

Adama frowned, uncertainty filled him. Noticing Nagala's hinting at something, he was distracted by nostalgic emotions, fond memories of the ship he'd first crewed during the war, "The Galactica… It's mine?"

Admiral Nagala grinned. Corman nodded slowly.

"The decision's yours if you want to take the offer Bill. If you do…" Admiral Corman said invitingly, trailing off.

"There'll be information in a secure lockbox in the commanding officer's quarters, on a… Hypothetical mission. Called Ragnarok Scenario…" Admiral Nagala stated, evenly.

 **Februarius 8** **th** **, 2351**

 **Confederation Station, in space three hours sublight travel to Picon**

 **Heavy Warstar Haven CIC**

Commander Marcel Cifer stood in the center of the large CIC, checking on the various sections of the ship to prepare for a jump.

"Good to see we're finally getting out of dock even if it's just for this test; took them long enough to get the ship up and ready," Commander Marcel Cifer said excitedly.

"Aye sir. Though we're still relatively lightly armed with about half our weapons not yet functional," Colonel Llora Skylar said, rolling her eyes.

"Pfft. You'd think with all the cubits pushed into getting Haven up and running the weapons would've been prioritized and all online," Commander Cifer scoffed, "Still, even if we had to face combat, we've got enough teeth as is to rip apart pretty much any conceivable enemy."

"The firepower of around three mercury class Battlestars combined. Stronger than any other Warstar ever created, and meant to literally take on a war by herself. Yes, even with a fraction of her weapons, she's too deadly and stubborn to be in trouble in combat no matter her situation sir," Colonel Skylar said in agreement, smiling slightly, though still wishing Haven could be at 100% on her maiden voyage.

"Well if nothing else we'll get to see Haven jump farther than any other ship in the fleet could dream of. Given her eight large and powerful engines, along with the Olympus class FTL, giving the ship a jump range of around 100 light years; should provide an interesting test to see today," Commander Cifer said, nodding slightly.

"Indeed sir," Colonel Skylar said.

"Let's get a message out to that civilian engineer to finish up her work on the ship's FTL systems so we can get going. I'm starting to get antsy about waiting and I'm excited to see our beloved ship in action," Commander Cifer said, eyes sparkling in excitement and in anticipation.

"Aye sir. I'll make sure she hurries up and gets off our frakking ship post haste. No need to take her with us for the test after all. You know how much I detest the civilian contractors from Intrinsic Espada Engineering," Colonel Skylar said, grinning.

"Thank you Colonel; knew I could count on you to feel the same," Commander Cifer said, closing his eyes and sighing with satisfaction at soon getting his wish.

 **10 minutes later**

"Let the Colonel know that pesky blonde civilian engineer she hates so much is now away from the ship," Major David Magnus said boredly into his earpiece connecting to the ship's CIC, watching the raptor carrying the civilian engineer and her assistants away from Haven.

"Aye sir," the communications officer replied, then relayed the CAGs message to the Colonel and Commander.

"Good," Colonel Skylar said, grinning mischievously and turning to her CO in expectation.

"Great to hear. Now let's get going!" Commander Cifer said excitedly, raising his voice to ensure the crew heard him and knew he was talking to them.

"Yes sir!" several crew members replied quickly.

Haven began moving farther away from the shipyard docks that had been her home for so long, while the crew finished preparations to jump the ship.

"FTL jump in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Jumping!" Lieutenant Anabel Drake said happily, raising her arms and jumping up and down slightly in excitement.

Commander Cifer glanced at the jubilant operations officer in bemusement before looking ahead as the ship FTL jumped and quickly arrived at its destination. Haven jumped away from the colonies on her intended single 100 lightyear jump as a test for the new ship's systems; everything went ahead like clockwork. A bright flash surrounded the massive ship and they were displaced, arriving at their new coordinates as planned. Then it all went wrong…

"We've arrived out of our FTL jump sir," Lieutenant Drake reported smiling widely, but her smile turned down into an uncharacteristic frown moments later as she gave the FTL computer her full attention, noticing something odd.

Commander Cifer was grinning in excitement and ready to begin looking around at the historic jump point for his ship's first of many amazing accomplishments, but then he turned serious as he noticed the operations officer's sudden change in attitude. Rarely was the Lieutenant not smiling or excited. Commander Cifer moved closer to the Lieutenant knowing something was wrong.

"Report Lieutenant," Commander Cifer said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Sir… I don't know what's causing this, but the FTL computer immediately started plotting another jump and spun up the FTL drives for another jump sir," Lieutenant Drake said, frowning in confusion and consternation.

"What do you mean Lieutenant? We're not scheduled for a jump until after surveying the area. Could it be a malfunction?" Commander Cifer asked angrily, not liking his brand new ship becoming full of bugs in her systems right off the bat.

"Sir, like I said I don't quite understand what's going on," Lieutenant Drake said, scratching her head and narrowing her eyes at the FTL computer in annoyance, "It seems though that the FTL is carrying out commands inputted to jump the ship again in short order. It's already set to go within 30 more seconds sir."

"Can you stop it and fix it Anabel?" Commander Cifer asked.

"No sir. I'll have to get into the system after the jump; it's just programmed to jump too soon after our first jump to do much of anything before…" Lieutenant Drake said trailing off as the ship jumped while she was midsentence explaining the situation, "that."

"Hmmm," Commander Cifer said, frowning in annoyance.

"Getting right on it, now, sir!" Lieutenant Drake said, mock saluting the Commander and smiling again as she started going through the FTL systems, fingers running across the keyboard at breakneck speed.

A few moments later Lieutenant Drake began opening up the FTL computers and narrowing her eyes at the machine as it disobeyed her, not giving what she wanted right away.

As the Lieutenant worked the ship jumped again after a few minutes, following preset commands to jump in regular intervals at the shortest time possible for the ship to keep up with. Most of the crew was used to the nauseating sensation, feeling of dizziness, which accompanied an FTL jump; none had experienced so many jumps in quick succession. Much of the CIC crew put a hand to their heads, steadying themselves. One technician couldn't hold it in any longer, moving his head to the side away from his computer console and threw up. The rancid odor caused another technician across from him to follow suit…

"Get it fixed now Lieutenant! I'd like to not break our ship right away or get lost somewhere if we continue jumping!" Colonel Skylar said sternly.

"On it sir! However, the coding on the FTL computers is extensive; it's blocking all attempts to stop the systems from engaging in an FTL jumps. I can't understand it, but it's almost like someone intentionally programmed these commands to go off when we jumped away and it's nowhere near done.

If I can't stop it, we'll keep jumping long distances and eventually face trouble with the ships systems or we could run into some celestial body like a sun," Lieutenant Drake said, turning to her superiors with a look of fear on her face…

 **Aprilius 4th, 2351**

 **Scorpian Fleet Shipyards, Dry-dock 12**

The Scorpian shipyards stood in high orbit above the colony of Scorpia. Outside of Picon Fleet anchorage over Picon, it was the largest construct in colonial space and the go-to for the colonial fleet for construction and repair operations. Encompassing the shipyards was a series of dry-docks, enclosed construction bays large enough fit whole ships inside and allow work without atmospheric suits having to be worn.

Inside Dry-dock 12 sat the Battlestar Prometheus…

At a platform overlooking the ship stood two officers with Admiral pins on their blue fleet uniforms. Below, construction workers could be seen transferring supplies into the ship, yelling at others moving too slow.

"It's a lovely ship, Admiral Jones," Fleet Admiral Peter Corman said.

"Thank you, sir," Admiral Jones said quietly, looking down at the Titan class with pride.

One of only two among the fleet, the only officially known one being the flagship of the fleet, the Atlantia. Most confused it with mercury class given the same basic structure and only being about a third larger in size.

"Damn shame the fleet can't see more of these ships. The government's spending cuts at work," Admiral Corman said bitterly.

"I'd heard rumors about the ship when I took command. Is it true the only reason she still exists is the ship was more than halfway through construction when the orders came along to halt the plans for the Titan class?" Admiral Jones asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Indeed. Would've been a waste to scrap her at that point. Seems we finally have a mission to take her out of dock now. I assume you heard the recent scuttlebutt?" Admiral Corman asked, bemused.

"Yes, sir. It's still being kept pretty quiet, but the disappearance of the Haven weeks ago wasn't something that went unnoticed," Admiral Jones said.

"I should hope not, or I'd be worried if I had fools in my fleet," Admiral Corman said, chuckling, "The largest ship ever built and the Admiralty insisted on its construction. It was a heavy loss when it disappeared on a routine FTL test. The largest, costliest, failure of the fleet."

Admiral Jones frowned sadly, looking over her ship with new eyes scrutinizing its beauty, as she realized how lucky she was to have it. "Hard to believe such a massive ship could just go missing. Scouts didn't find wreckage at least?"

"No. Nothing. They were testing long range jumping with the newest systems. Could've found themselves adrift in deep space, or ended up inside a sun; anything's possible since we have no idea what went wrong that made them jump beyond where they were supposed to end up.

Now, you should know that this incident has bearing on your mission Admiral," Corman said.

Admiral Jones shifted uncomfortably, gripping the hand railing tightly.

"By all accounts whatever political capital the fleet had was spent with this failure. Lucky for us, although President Adar ran a platform on military spending cuts, he also relies on the military to exert control of dissidents in the colonies. The incident on Aerilon when he sent marines to quell an uprising against the government comes to mind… In exchange for the Admiralty no longer making a fuss, or public outcry against what's being done to the fleet, and actively cooperating with networking and other activities we disagree with, he approved this mission we're sending you on," Admiral Corman said.

"Generous of him," Jones said sarcastically, her eyes narrowed. She disliked their president for his policies, not the least of which was continuing military reduction.

"Officially Battlestar Group (BSG) 8 will be on long distance patrol outside the perimeter of colonial space. If this mission comes to light, it'll be known that BSG 8 was exploring deep space. The truth however is that your mission is to map as much of deep space as possible and preferably find other habitable worlds," Admiral Corman said.

"Is that all? Here I thought we'd find the thirteenth tribe while out on a night on the town," Admiral Jones said flippantly, shaking her head.

Corman laughed, a small grin on his face, "Unlikely though that is, it's certainly not out of the realm of possibility… We just had more realistic goals."

Corman handed her a sealed envelope with the colonies' crown seal over the opening. Jones looked at him with confusion as she took it.

"Inside that, you'll find the jump coordinates where you will go to on your return trip as you complete your mission. It goes without saying that is highly confidential. Your ship will be ready for launch shortly, so I just want to say good luck. Good hunting, Admiral," Admiral Corman said, extending a hand.

Admiral Jones shook his hand, sharing his ear to ear grin, with a respectful nod, "Thank you, sir."

Admiral Corman gave one last look to the mighty warship below, and turned as he went on his way to a raptor that would carry him back to Picon Fleet HQ…

Hours later, the Prometheus joined its fleet, maneuvering at sub-light speed away from Scorpia. The ships were engulfed in a bright flash of light as FTLs were engaged, jumping away to an uncertain future…

 **Martius 17** **th** **, 2353**

 **Picon, Battlestar Atlantia; Admiral's Quarters**

Admiral's Corman and Nagala sat across from each other, glasses in their hands clinking as they took a swig of ambrosia.

First to break the silence, Nagala spoke earnestly, "I know you've been looking for a long time. Perhaps you gave out hope, even as you found support staff for the Admiral you had in mind… But this is it Peter. We found him."

Admiral Corman frowned, surprised at his close friend's candor. He looked down, once more going over the analysis of war game 804 in the file before him.

 _Three Mercury class Battlestars with superior fighter support, simulating a superior armed fleet with greater numbers of capital ships and fighter-craft, defeated by a fleet of two Jupiter class Battlestars and six Gunstars…_

"Tactical genius is what his instructors called him. His rise through the ranks shows that held weight; graduated Picon Fleet's academy, age 21, top of his class: excelling in war strategy and fleet logistics. He spent three years as a flight instructor and quickly became captain of Caprica Station's defense viper squadrons. Clearly he can connect with his personnel and inspire confidence in his leadership…

He then spent two years as CAG on Battlestar Pacifica, rising to the rank of Colonel and served as Executive Officer of the ship for six months before transferring to become commander of Battlestar Chimera. Even lead the BSG fleet he was attached to when the Admiral in command passed away without warning from natural causes," Admiral Nagala said passionately, reading over the officer's service record.

"I get it, he's a qualified officer. Perhaps the best we've looked at," Admiral Corman admitted grudgingly, "But the weight on his shoulders could just as easily be too much for him. Him, an Admiral, at 28?"

"Was I too young at 35? Age isn't what matters; it's character. Guts. And you can't delay any longer… At least meet him and see for yourself," Admiral Nagala implored.

Admiral Corman sighed, rubbing his eyes, feeling the full weight of his sixty-seven years. "Very well."

 **Martius 19** **th** **, 2353**

 **Picon; Fleet HQ, Fleet Admiral's Office**

Fleet Admiral Peter Corman sat down in his plushy chair, gesturing for the much younger man who'd arrived at his office to sit opposite him.

"Commander, I know you are wondering why you are here. I'll get down to business and not waste either of our time. Your recent performance in a fleet war game is what has precipitated our meeting," Admiral Corman said seriously, looking up and down the young officer across from him. Wondering if he'd made the right choice.

"Sir. I hope my performance was satisfactory," Commander Erik Stark said nervously, sitting up straight and trying to convey the confidence he thought was expected.

Admiral Corman frowned, giving Stark the full extent of his stare. He'd been known to send cadets home when they couldn't take it…

"You performed quite well, Commander Stark. Taking advantage of the lack of combat readiness aboard the _Solaria_ and taking her out of the fight involved great ingenuity.

You sacrificed three Gunstars and one Jupiter class Battlestar to quickly eliminate the other Mercury class vessels. Risky. A hardball way to command," Admiral Corman said, studying Stark inquisitively.

"I can tender my resignation if the use of such tactics is disagreeable to the colonial fleet sir…" Commander Erik Stark said trailing off, eyebrows furrowed. His skin flushed as a turmoil of emotions passed through him and slowly dissipated as Admiral Corman remained silent.

Admiral Corman merely raised an eyebrow, watching Commander Stark carefully and waited for him to continue.

"Against a technologically superior foe, I did what was necessary for victory. Despite regrettable losses. Extreme tactics were required against a superior enemy force, but in such a case what needs to be done for the good of the fleet: should be done," Commander Stark said, leaning forward, meeting Admiral Corman's eyes. No longer nervous, as confidence and a strong sense of conviction replaced the apprehension and discomfort he'd felt under Corman's intense scrutiny.

"Explain your reasoning," Admiral Corman asked, watching Stark like a hawk. He began to feel excited, his lips ever so slightly upturning to a smile.

"I assumed this was a test of theories for a potential Cylon invasion, as they've been the one real enemy the fleet's faced. The Cylons were harsh, unfeeling, purely logical beings willing to do anything to achieve victory. It's a handicap to not be willing to do the same," Commander Stark said, giving Corman a hard look.

After a long moment as the two stared at each other; Admiral Corman chuckled. Commander Stark jolted upright before relaxing into his seat.

"You're not here to be reprimanded, Stark. Your orders were tactically sound and allowed your largely disadvantaged fleet to come out of a battle against a superior force," Admiral Corman said, satisfied, feeling as if he'd finally found the one he'd so long searched for. "Congratulations Commander. I am promoting you to Admiral, effective immediately. The youngest yet."

Stark sat, shocked, his mouth ajar.

"Sir?" Stark said, heart fluttering a moment, _him, an Admiral?_

Corman pushed a set of Admiral's wings before Stark, "Your service record stands for itself, _Admiral._ You represent the shining beacon of hope for the fleet. Sadly, I must also give you the highest of responsibilities today."

"-If you think I'm ready, sir… I stand prepared to do my duty to defend the colonies, sir," Admiral Stark said determinedly, shaking off his surprise, eyes narrowed at the Fleet Admiral.

"For years the Admiralty has argued with the government over the threat of the Cylons. Apparently, safety mattered less than funding civilian projects," Admiral Corman said, his matter of fact tone growing sour as anger overtook his features.

"Yes sir," Admiral Stark said sadly, "Moreover, the government confined colonial space to the Twelve colonies, with few ventures outside our controlled space allowed."

"I'm glad to see you understand the problem. We're boxed into one convenient location, and more and more weakening our own defenses," Admiral Corman said, snorting. His eyes grew dark, making it clear just how not funny he found this.

"Undoubtedly you know of the war with the Cylons and the armistice agreement ending the war… What you do not know is that the colonies broke the armistice four years ago. A stealthstar, which the Cylons shouldn't have been able to detect, went over to the Cylon's side of the armistice line to give us a glimpse of any activity..." Admiral Corman said, his eyes briefly taking a far-off look. He felt a mix of shame and anger remembering the events of the mission.

"What?! Sir that can't be true!" Admiral Stark protested vehemently, unwilling to believe what he'd just heard.

"I'm afraid it is. I ordered the mission myself," Admiral Corman said, eyes downcast.

"Why sir?" Admiral Stark asked, confused.

"The Admiralty saw the writing on the wall. The fleet would be reduced to the point we couldn't defend ourselves. Until the Cylons actually showed up, the government and civilians would continue believing they posed no threat. We had to know if there was a threat while we had the strength to defend the colonies!

Within a minute of our appearance, unknown dradis contacts appeared. The Cylons had a rapid response force that detected our ship over the line. This is evident of a military war machine still very much active and prepared to go to war if need be," Admiral Corman said.

Admiral Stark leaned back in his chair in shock, unsure of what to make of this newfound knowledge, "You weren't sure they were Cylons though? Just unknown contacts…"

"Correct. However, chances are they were Cylons. Unless we want to consider the possibility of other forces beyond the demarcation line illegally… We don't know their intentions. Knowing they have an active military is reason enough to warrant concern.

Why haven't they contacted us to engage in measures for peace? Why didn't we hear from them when they discovered the _Valkyrie's_ mission? They could've come and demanded a peace treaty, assurances that this wouldn't be repeated. They didn't. There's a reason for that, and undoubtedly not a good one. We must prepare for the worst, in case they do want war, and soon," Admiral Corman said.

Admiral Stark's expression hardened as he took in Admiral Corman's words, after a few moments he nodded in agreement.

"The government decided to pretend Valkyrie's mission didn't happen, to keep the public in the dark. To continue weakening the fleet, despite the likelihood we'd instigated a resumption of war with the Cylons," Admiral Corman said.

Admiral Stark leaned forward in his chair, giving Admiral Corman his undivided attention as a chill went down his spine.

"The only logical option was to start acting beyond the government's purview to ensure the colonies' survival. Since the _Valkyrie_ mission, we've begun implementing a failsafe plan, known as Ragnarok Scenario. Outside the government's knowledge, to ensure the colonies safety: as we otherwise could not. We utilized members of the military in line with our views, and powerful groups of civilians…

A secret colony was created about thirty light years from the colonies. There, a habitable planet lies within a gas cloud, five light years long and four light years thick; which contains radiation known to be harmful to Cylon technology. Any ship jumping there would need coordinates to reach the small safe area for FTL jumps.

All decommissioned, mothballed, and scrapped units have been in the process of being moved to that secure star system, instead of being melted down for parts as most in the colonies believe. Once there, shipyards not part of the fleet record continue working on getting those warships up and running. I'll leave you to find out the details of what's there later, but it's a sizeable force from ships no longer part of the colonial fleet, and even some ships created off the books. No record of any of this exists that could be compromised in a Cylon attack.

Many colonists volunteered to go to the star system, quietly. Densely populated, construction on the colony is underway to hold as many people as can be evacuated from the colonies in a Cylon attack.

Admiral, where this concerns you… I want you to take command of all fleet units in the Gjallarhorn nebula where this fallback position we've created lies. And as part of Ragnarok Scenario, if fleet command are unable to make it to you; you will take command of all colonial units as rightful Fleet Admiral," Admiral Corman said seriously.

Admiral Stark guffawed in shock and disbelief, "Me? Fleet Admiral?"

"Yes. You would lead all colonial forces. If survivors of the government couldn't be recovered, you would legally declare martial law until a replacement government could be created; as is legal under fleet regulations and the articles of colonization. Our backup plan should prevent this, but anything's possible…

Admiral Nagala is next in line for command and always stays mobile; he would likely be in command during an attack if the Cylons act intelligently. Nagala would do as much damage as possible to the Cylons while keeping their attention if victory over an attack is not possible, allowing time for civilian evacuations and fleet assets to be recovered to your position.

All fleet academies have Assaultstars to carry the thousands of cadets and personnel instructors to safety; allowing fresh personnel to man the fleet and dedicated, well trained instructors who can quickly get volunteers for a war combat capable.

Your priority would be to ensure the survival of as many people as possible and of the Midgard colony in the Gjallarhorn nebula, Admiral. Your forces serving as a reserve for the fleet is secondary to this. You would not reinforce the fleet outright, as we expect the Cylons would have superior forces that would overwhelm the fleet even with your forces combined.

This is a worst-case scenario plan for a reason. If war breaks out, the Cylons are likely to go for all out destruction; us or them. So, you are to gather all survivors to safety and only attack the Cylons when you're ready," Admiral Corman said.

"You wouldn't want us to remain hidden indefinitely until we matched the Cylons ship for ship, sir?" Admiral Stark asked.

"They're machines, Erik. That's unrealistic given their capacity to simply make more of their own kind in a factory. We don't know how far they've advanced either; anything's possible. Also, eventually they might find your forces.

Running and hiding isn't a long-term solution either. All who created the plan agreed we can't leave our children to fight a war for us if the colonies fell to the Cylons… You would gather whatever forces you could and once able, start an offensive against the Cylons. Win that war at all costs Admiral, because if things actually reached that point; anything to defeat the Cylons, and preventing their threat to future generations, would become necessary," Admiral Corman said.

"I understand sir," Admiral Stark said.

"I hope you do Admiral. Or we're all frakked," Admiral Corman said, scrutinizing Admiral Stark who stared at him with a strong sense of conviction and cold eyes, willing to do whatever it took to fulfill his duty.

"Very well," Admiral Corman said, accepting the strength of Stark's conviction, "Effective immediately, you are to report to your new post aboard the Battlestar Titan. You'll be taken there, to the Gjallarhorn nebula, when you leave this office and at that time records will be falsified to show your discharge from the fleet."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir. I won't let you or the colonies down," Admiral Stark said determinedly, saluting Admiral Corman as he got to his feet, then turning and leaving to reach the transport waiting to take him to his destination.

"May the Gods have mercy on my soul if I've chosen wrong; may the fates shine on you Admiral Stark and let you be the shining beacon of hope we all may need very soon," Admiral Corman said quietly once he was alone, then sat down and downed a glass of ambrosia.

Author's note:

Obvious disclaimer, don't own BSG/Caprica. Noted dialogue some edited came from Caprica and Blood and Chrome for the first Cylon war, some from BSG ep Hero.

Special thanks to editors, Beta-readers, and friends who helped with writing;

Wes Imlay, PamB., BewareofDrag, Sasha Sky., CamaroQ, Bella, BigZ, JewellTrim, Walker, Superwholoc., LydiaJ., Audrey Knight…


	3. 1x02 Establishing Humanity's Resistance

**Several Days Later…**

 **Gjallarhorn Nebula, Midgard Orbit**

 **Battlestar** _ **Titan**_ **, Admiral's Quarters**

Admiral Stark laid back in his plush chair, letting out a pent up breath from stress as he glared at the stack of paperwork on the table in front of him. Another pile of paperwork over a foot high was pushed off to the right, signifying the reading material he'd already gone through. An even larger mass lay to the left, yet to be touched, caked in dust from being undisturbed on the desk for a long time…

Entering the Admiral's quarters with the marine guards' approval outside, a brown-haired elder man in his early sixties approached Admiral Stark's desk, accompanied by a red-haired eager looking man in his early twenties, each dressed in colonial fleet officers' uniforms.

"Not what you expected to do as an Admiral someday?" Admiral Jonathon Graham asked, chuckling slightly as he grew amused watching Stark continuing to glare at the stack of paperwork as if fire would burst forth to remove the paper through his sheer force of will.

"No sir. I didn't expect to become an Admiral so young. I certainly wouldn't have looked forward to it as much if I knew this much paperwork would be waiting for me," Admiral Stark said, groaning in despair and rubbing his eyes to distract himself from looking at the mound of paperwork awaiting him.

"You can drop the sir, Erik. You are in command of the fleet. I've just been holding down the fort until they chose the fleet commanding officer. I prefer focusing on Research and Development in the downtime I have now, more exciting for me anyway," Admiral Graham said, grinning slightly.

Admiral Stark nodded, chuckling slightly as he imagined Admiral Graham had been ecstatic at getting away from where he sat, before stacks of paperwork.

"Would you like the brief rundown of fleet assets sir?" Commander Henrik Corvan asked, hiding the mild pity he felt looking at the despair Admiral Stark still showed when looking at the paperwork before him.

"Yes. The short version if possible, please. I've looked at logs dating back to settling in this star system, with so many changes here and there it gets confusing…" Admiral Stark said, frowning, his eyebrow twitched as he looked down at the paperwork again. He grabbed the topmost file. Standing, he stretched.

"Let's go for a walk… I could use the excuse to get away from this. Not to mention I need to acquaint myself with my ship still."

Admiral Graham merely smiled and nodded, following after Stark as he strode to the hatch, opened it and walked out. Commander Corvan stood still a moment, blinking slowly, then quickly followed after the pair, catching up as they strode down the corridors of the ship.

Content to walk without a particular direction in mind, Stark let Corvan lead the way…

 **Battlestar Titan, Auxiliary CIC**

Having walked a long distance across the ship, Commander Corvan had given Stark a brief rundown of the fleet as they arrived at the auxiliary CIC. The command center used in emergency if the main control center was compromised. Right now the room was empty of crewmen.

An array of computer consoles sat in a semi-circle around a long table in the center with large screens above for DRADIS and other ship functions. The lights came on, illuminating the pitch black darkness in the room as the trio entered.

"As you know, sir, Titan served as a prototype for the Titan class, the intended series of Battlestars to serve as fleet command ships… Originally planned at twice the size of the Mercury class; development issues and costs involved led to downsizing her structure to just a third larger lengthwise.

Engine and continuing technological issues resulted in the Titan being scrapped. Atlantia and Prometheus succeeded the Titan, proving capable enough to establish as fleet command ships. The government decided they were sufficient for the fleet, scrapping the rest of the class.

All scrapped and decommissioned ships, from junkyards and mothballing anchorages, have steadily continued to be moved to our location the past few years, including the Titan herself. Each is in the process of being updated and returned to a serviceable condition in our shipyards," Commander Corvan reported.

"Yes… I also saw in the reports that the rest of the Titan class that had been in construction were brought here as well," Admiral Stark said, raising an eyebrow. He leaned against the auxiliary CIC's plot table, brushing his hand across the smooth surface.

Commander Corvan stood across from him on the other side of the plot table. He placed a file he'd been carrying on the surface.

"Yes, sir. Titan was the first completed in our shipyards, the rest are being worked on among other construction efforts. Thankfully our construction capacity has continued being improved as we've gathered shipyards, those decommissioned in fleet cuts and others created here by private companies aligned with Ragnarok Scenario… We have the Canceron, Leonis, and Confederation stations. Then there are the mobile shipyards; eight Leviathan and twelve Hephaestus class, and seven construct-stars.

With current plans, the reserve fleet is expected to consist of four of the Titan class, eleven Mercury class, fourteen Jupiter class, eight Valkyrie class, and twelve Columbia class Battlestars. We expect more in continuing fleet cuts and from scrapyards," Commander Corvan finished, and looked up from the file to examine Admiral Stark, gauging his response.

Admiral Stark raised an eyebrow as he listened, tapping his fingers restlessly as his thoughts turned. Then suddenly stopping as he spoke, "That's good. Very good. However, I'd like the plans for the Titan class halted, effective immediately."

"Halted?" Admiral Graham asked, eyebrows furrowed, sharing a confused look with Commander Corvan.

"For a class that will be command units for the fleet, it makes little sense to construct for the purpose of quantity over quality. A dozen such ships sounds good on paper, but they offer little more than if we simply build more Mercury class ships.

It's understandable that the government would've approved them that way, but it makes no sense for us to continue those plans; with no innovation to our changed circumstances," Admiral Stark said, voice thick with disapproval as he frowned at Admiral Graham.

Admiral Graham looked down guiltily.

"Sir, just junking these ships after the work put in…" Commander Corvan said, a horrified look on his face as he suppressed a shiver, distraught at the mere thought.

"The Titan class will be built to the originals specifications; 3400 meters long, 1200 meters wide, 450 meters high. There will no doubt be fewer ships of the class, but they will be proper command ships," Admiral Stark said firmly.

"Building to such specifications could take years longer than current plans…" Admiral Graham said, frowning.

"It may also affect implementing upgrades for the Titan class. I urge you to reconsider-" Commander Corvan said pleadingly.

Admiral Stark looked between the two, considering their points weighed against his own. His eyes hardened as his tone turned stern, a hint of finality to it. "Titan is already completed, and will remain as is. The other Titan class ships will be built to the new specifications."

Admiral Graham merely sighed, Commander Corvan looked torn for a moment before accepting the Admiral's decision.

Corvan picked up the corded phone at his side of the auxiliary CIC's plot table, briefly checking in with status of orders he'd previously given and verified the ship's readiness. Putting down the receiver, Corvan toggled the view screens above the plot table. In addition to the DRADIS system showing the Titan's capital ship icon, the other screens now showed the ship's gun cameras angling ahead at a nearby rock among the vast asteroid belt orbiting the Midgard system's sun.

"Sir, the Titan class was being upgraded as a test bed for new weapons and technology advancements. Including a pulse cannon defense grid using laser turrets in place of usual flak cannons. Simulations show these as ten times more effective at eliminating fighters and missiles. More importantly, as I'd like you to see a demonstration of on the view screens, there's the addition of mega pulse lasers as main ship weaponry. Four are mounted across the Titan. Tests have shown no malfunction or issues in the ship's combat efficiency. Simulations predict a couple shots could destroy one of the first war Cylon baseships…" Commander Corvan said.

As Corvan spoke, the _Titan_ slowed to a dead stop before the nearby asteroid. Four large barreled turret mounts swiveled toward the direction of the asteroid, drawing large sums of power from the ship in moments. Reaching their peak and with the command to fire aboard the ship's main CIC, the Mega Pulse Laser (MPL) cannons fired.

Four beams of gold colored energy shot out, meeting at a single point as the beam impacted on the asteroid. Hard rock was ripped through, debris flying everywhere while the beam dug straight through the asteroid. The asteroid split apart into thousands of small fragments. A minute after being hit by the MPL; the asteroid, over a kilometer in size, was gone with few signs of it ever having been there.

Admiral Stark watched this on the view screen overhead with wide eyes. "An amazing display of firepower…" Stark said with awe in his tone. He frowned as his attention turned to Corvan, "What's the downside? I assume there is a downside, otherwise the whole fleet would have such a weapon."

"There's just a brief period of time before the MPLs can fire again, with the need to recharge and the use of a significant amount of energy. We have six primary and eight secondary energizers on the ship allowing a variety of combat options in concert with the MPL, and only multiple energizers taken offline would impair combat functionality. As to why such weaponry isn't in the fleet… Cost. The active fleet couldn't maintain such weaponry without high costs which ensured such weapon advancements never saw the light of day. Atlantia herself never received such, though the MPL concept itself is not a new one," Corvan said.

Admiral Stark nodded. Placing his head in his hands, he tapped against the plot table, fingers drumming briefly. Frowning, he looked up at Corvan, "I understand cost measures. However, I thought we had a large sum funding everything here. Slush funds, money from across several budgets, not to mention the companies and wealthy philanthropists behind us…"

"Yes, sir, that's true. However, there's projects like the Valhalla asteroid colony – the first of its kind as a mobile defense station measuring twenty-three kilometers long, ten kilometers wide. The largest thing created in colonial history, and heavily armed to boot. It's still under construction; we're creating a living space for millions inside, with thick heavy armor covering her entire hull, and more firepower than several Battlestars.

Not to mention building new ships, restoring scrapped and decommissioned units, creating new weapons systems, secreting away crew and people from the colonies… While keeping the biggest secret in the colonies, at a time when the military and secrecy for the welfare of the public isn't exactly valued," Corvan said, shaking his head and sighing deeply.

Admiral Stark smiled as Corvan finished. Taking a deep breath, he handed the file he carried with him to Corvan, shrugging he grinned roguishly, "When doing things without much care for the cost fails, there's always the more pragmatic way. Using up all the laying around junk for instance…"

Commander Corvan's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he took the folder, opening it up to see Admiral Stark's scrawling handwriting detailing changes to be made for the fleet, focusing on construction and commandeering decommissioned fleet units.

"You're ordering to cancel the reconstruction of decommissioned units; the Gaul, Nimitz and many others? Scrapping the Valkyrie class and several of the Columbias. Scrapping all the Gunstars intended to be part of the fleet, serving as the fleet's gunnery support ships. Taking away the planned scrap materials from units among the junkyards as well…" Commander Corvan said with a stern frown, perplexed as he looked up from the paperwork.

"Currently we're reconstructing frames and replacing materials from scrapped units to fix up old decommissioned ships… This is a dangerous proposition as they're not as trustworthy as making new ships. Instead, taking that material gives a surplus for other projects and allows makeshift use to speed up construction," Admiral Stark said.

Commander Corvan looked over the next sheet of instructions showing Stark's intended plan for the transfer of resources, his expression grew perturbed as he spoke, "That's how you see us constructing more asteroid colonies? More boats to hold as many as we can if we needed to run away…"

"No. More large mobile defense stations; smaller than the Valhalla, and thus easier to build. Which could be used to run, if it came to it, but also useful as a good defense emplacement with their firepower. Seems better to make them than current plans of reconstructing several old warships that have less combined firepower by comparison and less versatility of use," Admiral Stark said simply.

"Still, it'll take years to make such large constructions…" Admiral Graham pointed out, stroking his chin warily.

"It took years to make Valhalla and more years to go before she's finished. If we move ahead with my plan, these new defense stations could be ready within the scheduled time of completion of Valhalla in two years, using stopgap construction which can be shored up, replaced and updated over time.

FTL is one of the most complicated, but can be mitigated by ripping out functional jump drives from decommissioned units, using new technology to synchronize drives meant for long distance jumps with large mass – or hell making it possible to tug jump the defense stations.

The important thing is that they are available by the time we need them, and I have confidence it can be done," Admiral Stark said, a hint of finality in his tone as he looked back and forth between the two before him.

As no move was made to argue and the silence continued, clearing his throat, Commander Corvan awkwardly continued his report.

"There's also the Warstars, designed to combat capital ships, taking on Basestars directly. Built with heavier firepower than Battlestars; they lack flightpods and thus fighter squadrons. Complementing them were the Firestars, ships originally designed before the Cylon war. Like Gunstars, they provide gunnery support with flight-pods aboard to release several squadrons of Vipers and Raptors. Apparently, these ships weren't conducive to peacetime efforts of the fleet, which is why they were all decommissioned and Gunstars, and other smaller ships, received a ramp up in production as a lighter, lower costing replacement," Commander Corvan said.

Admiral Stark nodded, uncertain what to feel about the fleet. Proud? Worried it wasn't enough? Time would tell, so he decided it was better to focus on what he could change now.

"I also intend to have other ships constructed in place of the Gunstars which are no longer going to be part of the fleet. I'll need to speak with the lead scientists of R&D. From the reports I've read, Doctor Ravalshol was responsible for the pulse lasers. Doctor Locke is also supposed to be a big fish on a number of topics, particularly having had a hand in designing our ships so far. Commander if you would, set up a meeting please," Admiral Stark said calmly, eyes narrowing as he uneasily remembered from notes made in reports that Locke, in particular, could try just about anyone's patience.

"Yes sir," Commander Corvan said dutifully, with a nod.

"I understand that projections place our fleet, even added to the active colonial fleet, at best on equal footing with the Cylon fleet?" Admiral Stark inquired, scrutinizing Corvan closely.

"Yes, sir. Most likely they'll have more ships, as we expect they continued production at a similar or higher rate than we have since the Cylon war ended. They also don't have a clear reason to slow production of ships and downsize their fleet as we have been doing," Commander Corvan said with unease.

Admiral Stark nodded, seeing the clear, logical reasoning. What did machines need to care about financial costs after all? They could build and build, day and night. He now saw the real fears of the Admiralty, the image of Cylon basestars bearing down upon the colonial fleet, outnumbering them a thousand to one…

Admiral Stark shook himself, and asked Corvan to repeat himself, as he'd spaced out and heard only the end of what Corvan had been saying.

"Raw material, tylium, medical, and food supplies are not currently an issue sir, stockpiles are available for twice Midgard's current population and more are intended in the case of mass casualties across the twelve worlds. Our ground force of marines is coming along, rivalling armies on the colonies. They could be dropped groundside in the case of invasion and occupation forces. Our training academies on Valhalla have seen rapid recruitment, which I'd suggest continuing."

"Alright…" Stark said considering this information, "How many are on Midgard presently?"

"We have just over four million colonists on Midgard, with many more in space particularly on Valhalla including our marine forces. More supplies and people are being brought in each passing month as well," Commander Corvan said.

Admiral Stark's mouth flopped open, "How in the world did Corman get so many here without anyone noticing?"

"Since the end of the Cylon war, we've been bottled up in the colonies. People were receptive to a fresh start elsewhere. Even with strings attached; including likely never returning to the colonies, and leaving no trace behind that would tarnish the secrecy of the colony.

If the government ever caught wind of it, they played along as if they didn't, taking in the change in population as a way to offer more space to overcrowding on the colonies. Likely none really know besides those in agreement with the Admiralty's views," Admiral Graham said.

"There's a lot of paranoia on the Cylons returning as well, sir. Plans include being less stealthy and focusing on taking as many people as possible from the colonies," Corvan said, slightly concerned.

"Getting as many people as we can is good, but we won't compromise the security of this operation and the colony to do so," Stark said sternly, narrowing his eyes at Corvan.

"Aye, sir," Corvan said, relieved.

"All right. I'll have to go through all this paperwork, I'll want your help with that Commander: better for us both to suffer through it. We have a lot of work to do to get everything up to par with Admiral Corman's expectations. Let's get to it," Admiral Stark said determinedly.

 **Gjallarhorn Nebula, Midgard's Orbit**

 **Asteroid Colony Valhalla; War School, Training Room 04**

Thick cushioning mats covered the hard metal floor throughout the room. Across the large room people of all ages were gathered, those off to the corners where poles setup simulating rings were engaged in sparring. Kicking, punching each other, leaving loud noises to echo in the room as opponents grappled for control; often blood spewed from wounds to leave wet stains across the mats, particularly at the end of a bout…

At the center of the room, a collection of over eighty students, dressed in black athletic clothing, stood milling about. They were of all ages; most of the students were between sixteen and their twenties, the youngest looked to be about eight. A handful of adults older than the students, their teachers, stood at the head of the formation, watching and gauging their students. Without instruction most of the students grew loud in conversations amongst themselves.

Amidst the noise, a man in his early thirties silently walked through the chaos in the room, all but unnoticed. Clad in the usual garb of the leader of a clan on Scorpia; a simple black shirt, covered by a robe which lowered all the way down to his ankles. Along his black robe were several stylized designs including a set of fleur-de-lis forming a ring around his cufflinks, and prominently at the center of the garment atop his chest were the symbols of his clan, a red sun with lightning through the middle, and a dragon devouring another. Displayed prominently over his shirt, a silver pendant in the shape of a dragon's head. Attached to a sash across his midriff, a long sheathed blade with intricate designs across the hilt. He carried with him an aura of mystique, sophistication, power, and danger.

His cold, calculating eyes set in a worn face swept over the students. Analyzing and taking their measure.

Stepping out of the man's shadow, a young man with dark hair brown eyes, in his twenties, appeared; an expression of annoyance crossing his face before he suppressed it and his expression became blank. "Atten-shun!" the young man yelled out.

All conversations among the trainees at the center of the room came to a standstill, several nervous looks appearing as the group turned to the front and stood stock still.

The mysterious man walked forward, stopping just before the first bunch of the large group of trainees.

"I see several new faces, as well as a few old ones. As I hope they have, you must each one of you take this lesson to heart, or you will not remain here. From here on out, I, Yaksha Algol, am your enemy. You may find this odd. However, those who have endured war understand this essential truth; there is no better teacher than the enemy.

Only the enemy will inform you what they will do, only they will make you understand how to destroy and ultimately achieve victory. You can spar, or prepare in any number of ways, but only the enemy will show you your weakness, only the enemy can inform you of their strength. There are no rules in war but what we make in civilized society, and anyone attentive of history knows those are often bent and broken until there are none in a real war.

There is what you can do to the enemy, and what I hope to enable you to stop the enemy, that actually means to end your existence, from being able to do to you. This is why you are here before me; your training begins now," Yaksha Algol thundered, his voice reverberating throughout the training room.

Appearing like a blur to the wide-eyed students, Yaksha Algol rushed forward, lowering to the ground and lashing out with his leg to bring down one of the taller students. As the student, just a teenager, landed heavily on his back, Yaksha Algol's hand pulled into a fist appeared within an inch of the student's face. Completely stunned, the student blinked rapidly, wide-eyed fear on his face as he looked up at his teacher.

Yaksha Algol leaned down toward him, his eyes were cold and unforgiving. He waited a long moment as the student made no movement and although the student's look of fear faded, Yaksha gave no other reaction. Finally, his fist uncurled and moved down to the student's arm, proffering to lift the boy up. The two rose as those gathered near gave them space. Now the students were cautious, and more than a few fearful of their new teacher.

Yaksha Algol narrowed his eyes at the students, glancing down the line at the lot of them as he dropped his shoulders and angled his body slightly into a defensive stance. "Defeat me. If you can!"

Eight students rushed forward determinedly, moving to strike their new teacher. Yaksha merely lowered his head as the first student took a swipe at his face, his arm hitting only air. He left himself open as Yaksha drew his arm back, connecting on the student's back, forcing his forward motion until the student smashed face first into the mat. Then Yaksha dropped lower and kicked out his right leg at another oncoming student, sweeping him off his feet. Yaksha's eyes darkened as he saw a flash to his left. Raising his arm as a shield, he caught another student's fist, holding back the blow without a trace of reaction from the impact. Grabbing the student by the scruff of his shirt with his other arm, Yaksha threw him into the other three students looking to make a move against him. They fell backward to the ground with loud groans. The other three students that initially rushed ahead and those behind them hesitated, eyeing Yaksha Algol with trepidation.

Straightening, Yaksha arched a brow at the students as several flinched at his movement. "Do you believe your enemy will wait for you to be ready? The enemy will not be fair, or considerate! In anything but a friendly bout, the enemy will do whatever it takes to beat you down and succeed over you! If you will not come, I will come to you!" Yaksha proclaimed, rushing forward and catching the nearest student with an uppercut, throwing him aside.

With a loud cry, a boy perhaps sixteen years old rushed toward Yaksha, in his rush he lost his footing and tripped. Blushing briefly, the blonde-haired boy recovered and aimed a fist at a patiently waiting Yaksha's center mass. Yaksha caught the boy's fist with his hand and pulled him forward so they were face to face, disabling the blonde youth as he tried and failed to escape Yaksha's grip. Yaksha studied the teenager's face, seeing his determination and will to continue, he smiled.

"Your name, boy?" Yaksha asked. "Gideon," the blonde-haired boy said defiantly, returning to his effort to escape the teacher's vice-like grip holding him in place.

"Your fiery determination burns brightly. Remember next time so you don't lose your footing so quickly to not focus on the strength of your attack but use the ground beneath your feet to draw power. Use momentum against your enemy. Also, your passion is only a good weapon if you use it correctly, elsewise it's more a detriment as your opponent can use it against you," Yaksha Algol said with authority to the boy named Gideon. He saw acceptance in those young eyes before releasing and pushing the boy off to the side.

A small dark-haired girl, no older than Gideon, approached Yaksha from his blindspot behind him, catching Yaksha with a hard punch to the back of his head. Shaking it off with little reaction, Yaksha lashed out with an arm as he turned slightly and grabbing hold of his assailant reeled her in. Raising an eyebrow as recognition filled his features, Yaksha laughed.

"A good try, Thalia. Perhaps, remember to respect and honor your opponent next time. Although as always whatever's necessary to take them down, it's up to you how to judge which life's value to follow first and foremost," Yaksha Algol said. Then with a flourish of speed, he angled his arm to the right and pushed Thalia out of the way, leaving her to roll on the ground before stopping herself.

Two students attacked as one, each moving to punch Yaksha Algol from his left and right side. Seeing both as they approached, Yaksha moved two steps forward at just the right moment; leaving the students to collide, fists meeting the other's face that left them in a heap on the ground.

"Again!" Yaksha Algol called out, continuing the training process as the students bold enough rushed toward him once more.

After another hour, the trainee class was dismissed, returning to their dormitories for a break before heading to one of the school's various classes in subjects such as battle strategy, history of the colonies and particularly wars of the colonial militaries, self-defense…

 **Martius 17** **th** **, 2352**

 **Gjallarhorn Nebula, Midgard Orbit**

 **Battlestar** _ **Titan**_ **, Admiral's Quarters**

Admiral Stark drew in a deep breath, pushing the last file atop the largest of a set of piles on his desk and moving the pile off to the side.

The hatch, the secured door to the Admiral's quarters, was opened with a loud noise as the wheel lock was turned from the other side, the Marine guards allowing entrance to a visitor.

Entering the room, an elder man with greying hair and a worn aged face stepped forward, stopping before Admiral Stark's desk.

"You wished to see me, Admiral," the elder man said.

"Yes, Doctor Ravalshol. I thought it time we met," Admiral Stark said, getting up and reaching across the desk with his arm outstretched, as the elder man mirrored his movement clasping Stark's arm in a handshake.

"Always happy to be of service, Admiral," Doctor Ravalshol snapped sarcastically, "It is good to see a steady hand around to lead such an important facility." Ravalshol's eyes narrowed as he studied Admiral Stark.

"Ah, so you've been keeping track of me?" Admiral Stark asked, amused, an eyebrow raised.

"You've proposed a great many changes in a short space of time since arriving Admiral. Only a fool wouldn't take notice," Doctor Ravalshol said, inclining his head slightly in respect.

Admiral Stark smirked, shrugging his shoulders, "Well, I called you here as I thought it time to put a face to the man responsible for such important technology. Many that have a great deal to do with changes I've been proposing, which as you might have noticed, have not been so simple to process.

I also wondered if you could explain more about the technology I'm sure you know I have in mind. The reports I've read are not exactly filling in the blanks. Only so much goes into official records, as I'm sure a man of your experience understands."

"Of course, sir. Always happy to help," Doctor Ravalshol said, taking a deep breath, "Probably my greatest invention was the Ravalshol Pulsar."

Admiral Stark raised an eyebrow at the name.

Doctor Ravalshol grinned, chuckling, "I know, not much thought put into that one. Try naming many inventions and see if you can do better, good sir.

I'm sure your aware of how other scientists more focused on designing weapons systems saw how my Ravalshol Pulsar had great potential for use as a weapon. It became the first useable laser weaponry which we could put on a warship for proven capable use in combat. It started out quite differently.

Intended as a means to communicate outside our star system, the Ravalshol pulsar was a communications system that would revolutionize colonial society. As you know, FTL communications has long been believed to be impossible, even to our recent modernized science capabilities, and so in space we've placed numerous satellites at equidistant points across the colonies. Thus, allowing communication in our controlled space without the reliant use of courier raptors, as was prevalent in the last great war. Those satellites are effective but are delayed even at the fastest message speed, depending on the size of the data burst and other details, at best it takes hours from one of the colonies for messages to transmit to targeted locations within the same star system.

The Ravalshol pulsar would allow instant transmission of messages within a few lightyears, and depending on the strength of the signal could continue outward for hundreds of lightyears before the signal deteriorates and becomes incomprehensible. With recent upgrades, such as was seen on the titan before your changes began implementing to the fleet, the pulsar could theoretically continue a laser-burst into open space that would span thousands of light-years if adjusted to proper settings with current power generation."

Admiral Stark went pale at the implications, thinking of the harm as well as the good of such a technology if used as the doctor described. "Even encrypted, such a message would be alerting to anyone listening in space, doctor," Admiral Stark said, rubbing his temple with his hand stressfully.

"Hmm," Doctor Ravalshol said, looking at Admiral Stark with surprise before realization overtook his features, "Ah, of course, you mean the Cylons. Yes, I see how that could be a problem, though only if the pulsar was pointed in their general direction; it's not bidirectional so it would only go straight ahead, forward from the point of activation, though expanding outward along the same path it'd never hit behind that point of activation…"

"Still, dangerous and at best complicated to use correctly," Admiral Stark said, frowning, "the mega-pulse laser however can be more focused, specifically as a destructive weapon worth using?"

"Oh, yes sir. I'm less pleased at the combat applications used over the wide-reaching benefits to society the pulsar was intended for, but yes, it's a formidable technology as weaponry. I would advise its use over competing technology, as few could match its prowess against an enemy force in combat," Doctor Ravalshol said humbly, a sad expression on his face, with no appearance of hubris or arrogance - as if he were merely stating fact.

Eyebrows scrunching together, Admiral Stark was exhaling and about to speak as the hatch was pulled open abruptly. A young man in his twenties with rapidly moving eyes that searched the pair before him as his hands twitched erratically at his side. He stepped inside the Admiral's office quickly, the marine guard outside pulling up short behind him looking to secure the man as the marine apologized eyes downcast toward the Admiral.

Admiral Stark raised an eyebrow, sharing a look with Doctor Ravalshol, marveling the absurdity of the situation.

"Sorry Admiral, I came as soon as I could as requested, apparently your man here still wouldn't let me in however," the man said, rolling his eyes as he turned to the marine with a disdainful look.

"Apologies sir, protocol is to wait for your approval before entrance without a given appointment," the marine guard said apologetically, straightening to attention and not looking directly at the Admiral.

"This is a strange occurrence, but Doctor Locke is expected, stand down sergeant," Admiral Stark said, amused as he nodded toward the marine guard giving him leave.

As the marine guard left, Doctor Locke wringed his hands together, anxiously, looking up at Admiral Stark then over at Doctor Ravalshol before dropping his eyes to the floor in anticipation.

"Doctor Ravalshol if you'll excuse us, it appears I must handle an issue at hand. I'm sure we'll talk again soon about a number of topics. It was… an enlightening meeting," Admiral Stark said.

"Of course, sir," Doctor Ravalshol said, inclining his head and turning to leave, smiling slightly at Locke. The hatch slammed shut behind him a moment later, leaving the pair inside in silence.

"Sit, Doctor," Admiral Stark said, waving an arm at one of the chairs near his desk.

Doctor Andrew Locke pulled one of the chairs over to sit across from Admiral Stark as he took his seat.

As Admiral Stark remained silent, looking the picture of patience as he studied Doctor Locke, Locke grew impatient, eyes narrowing as he spoke with heat in his voice, "I didn't appreciate being summoned away from my work. Now, if you had a purpose, let's get on with it already!"

Admiral Stark grinned, making a hmm noise, "As you wish. I've called on you before. You have not responded to requests or orders which are relevant to your work, particularly with orders I issued to start modifying ship designs for the fleet."

"Orders?" Doctor Locke said blankly, "What do you mean modifying ship designs?"

Admiral Stark looked disbelievingly at Doctor Locke before chuckling as he remembered reports of the man he was with. Particularly on his difficulty with working with others.

"Yes, Doctor. Orders. As in you work for the military and thus you now work for; Me. The fleet already had several construction efforts going on. I need you to oversee my proposed changes to designs and the dismantling of ships while taking the material for them and using it for constructing new, particularly a few larger, ships," Admiral Stark said.

"Deconstructing ships? Building larger ones?" Doctor Locke said incredulously.

"I was informed you were a brilliant and fast-witted man, I'm glad one of those is true even if you seem a little slow today," Admiral Stark said, a tic forming on his forehead as he sighed to disperse his stress already appearing from dealing with this difficult man.

Doctor Locke frowned, his lip jutting out like a petulant child even as his anger was apparent at appearing to be belittled, "You can't just demand I throw away all my work! I won't dismantle the beautiful creations already completed and change my designs on a whim!"

"You will do as you are told Doctor. You can work with me and propose changes that you see of benefit to my design propositions, or you can make the designs exactly as instructed, regardless you WILL work as instructed by me," Admiral Stark said, eyes cold and threatening, devoid of emotion as he glared at Doctor Locke.

Doctor Locke flinched, sitting back in his seat, regarding Admiral Stark with a newfound understanding of his measure. Sitting still for a long moment as Admiral Stark waited patiently, Doctor Locke sighed and nodded, giving in easier than those that knew him usually expected.

"What changes are we talking about exactly?" Doctor Locke asked nervously, eyeing Stark with a frown.

"There are many we'll go over. Right now, I would like to propose immediate changes… I have looked over the designs for the asteroid colony and considering a theoretical large need for food, I want to replace the relatively small agricultural ships we have. Instead, I'd like the new asteroid colonies being built to include a large section inside to harvest various agricultural supplies; conservative estimates place production values over five times current rates. Enough for tens of millions possibly," Admiral Stark said.

Doctor Locke frowned, his eyebrows creasing together, "An odd request. Though I can't help feeling a shock no one's already thought of it… Yes, that's doable. Though the agricultural ships themselves already present in the system wouldn't be so useful anymore."

"They can be dismantled, perhaps parts transferred over to the new agricultural centers to be built. Other materials are already being transferred from less useful projects so we can complete the new asteroid colonies within two years, the same time all construction and upgrades to Valhalla will be complete," Admiral Stark said.

"Two years?! That's nowhere near enough to complete them to the same level as Valhalla-" Doctor Locke said.

"They won't have fancy defense grids yet by then, but everything else should be able to be completed, especially as designs will make the asteroid colonies 1/10th smaller than Valhalla. This is one case where quantity is more vital currently," Admiral Stark said.

Doctor Locke frowned harder, shaking his head, looking about to say something until he looked at the stern expression on Admiral Stark's face.

The meeting went on for another couple of hours, Doctor Locke belligerent and denying making changes to his genius designs until persuaded by Admiral Stark…

 **Cyrannus; Helios Alpha System, Caprica – Caprica City Cemetery**

The sun was bright and shining, early in the day as a group of around twenty is gathered around a coffin being prepared to be lowered into the ground, a funeral ceremony about to begin…

William Adama, his son Lee Adama and several other officers, and the family of the deceased are present; dressed in military dress uniforms with various medals attached or all in black...

At the center of the gathering, a chaplain in his late sixties began speaking, "Once again, we are charged with the solemn duty to return the bodies of our own to the universe from which the Lords of Kobol brought them to us. The burdens of this life are with us but a short time. For Lieutenant Zak Adama, son of William and Caroline Adama, brother of Lee, the time was too short, but we take comfort in knowing his life was willingly given in service to all of us."

Lee Adama was unable to look away from the coffin containing his brother's body, stoic and showing no emotion. He held onto his mother at his side who wore a black veil and held a handkerchief to her face as she cried.

"We honor them for that. And thus, it falls upon us to repent our sins and with the help of the lords of Kobol, make our own lives worthy of that gift. And now, we commit his body to the ground from which we were all made," the chaplain continued.

Lee Adama walked forward, exhaling, a mix of emotions on his face; sadness, rage… He placed a set of pilot's wings atop his brother's coffin reverently, his hand lingering on the coffin as he mentally said his goodbyes…

Minutes later the military detail of officers from the fleet stepped forward, bringing around to bear large musket rifles.

William Adama placed his hand in Kara Thrace's, his son Zak Adama's lover. The two drew comfort knowing they were there for each other, together through this difficult time…

Kara is emotional, remembering intimate moments with Zak, trying not to cry, or scream, as she so wishes while she continues looking ahead at the coffin. She flinches as loud gunfire erupts into the air moments later…

"Present... Arms!" an officer called out loudly. The various military personnel including the Adamas and Kara saluted as gunfire rings out three times…

 **A Day Later**

 **Caprica, Caprica City - Military Airfield**

William Adama and Kara Thrace walk together, waiting for transport to their various military postings.

"He told me that you're an amazing instructor, and that he was involved with you and that it was serious. He asked me to come to his graduation at Flight School and watch him get his wings," William Adama said.

"I know, I read the letter," Kara Thrace said,

"I see. Well, then, maybe you could tell me what he was hinting at. A surprise, about you," William Adama said.

"We were going to, uh... you know what? It's not important. I don't want that to, uh-" Kara said.

"You were engaged, right?" William Adama interjected.

"Yes, sir," Kara Thrace said, sheepishly, unable to meet Adama's eyes.

William Adama nodded, taking a deep breath, a thoughtful expression coming over him. A sad look mixed with amusement crossing his expression briefly as he remembered a conversation with Zak.

The two continued walking in awkward silence as they neared one of the planes that would escort personnel to stations off world. Various personnel with large duffel bags shuffled past the pair.

William Adama looked over Kara thoughtfully, a smile gracing his features briefly.

"I hear you resigned your commission at the fleet training academy. That you needed time to process; that they let you go pretty easily… given the circumstances…" William Adama said.

"-Yes, sir. I-… I don't think I can… I don't want to be a flight instructor anymore. It… Not after what happened," Kara Thrace said.

William Adama nodded in understanding, taking a deep breath, "I've heard good things about you Kara. That you were the best viper pilot your commanding officers had ever seen… That you knew it too though…"

The ghost of a smile appeared on Kara's face, remembering old times, getting into trouble often as well as flying experiences…

William Adama walked closer to Kara, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked at the hand then up at his eyes, looking lost.

"If… If things had been different, you would've been family to me Kara. I know my son must've loved you dearly, and you him. I'd like to offer you a direction. A posting on the Galactica. If you'll accept it…" William Adama said, eyeing Kara piercingly.

Kara blinked several times, processing, "-Sir…", Several images passed before her eyes, an empty rundown apartment, memories of having lost her only other family… Looking at Adama's eyes she saw something. "Yes, sir. I—I'd like that."

 **Martius 20** **th** **2352**

 **Caprica, Delphi**

A manned viper mark seven of the colonial fleet closed distance with a large civilian shuttle, chasing after the unknown plane which was nearing a military outpost at the edge of Delphi.

"Attention unknown vessel, this is Viper 877, you are entering restricted airspace. You are ordered to turn away now. You will identify yourself, and I will escort you to a landing zone," the viper's pilot, Captain Artorius Romanov said, eyes narrowed as he repeated his orders to the unknown craft once again.

The shuttle continued on, ignoring the viper, rapidly closing distance with the military outpost and beginning to lower in altitude, beginning a descent pattern.

Artorius pushed a button on his console, turning on his communications headset in his helmet, "Sir, I confirm, no joy. No response from the unknown craft. Repeated attempts to communicate have been ignored. They've already passed the outer mark for the Delphi outpost's airspace, beginning a descent pattern as we speak. About five minutes out."

Inside the command center of the Delphi military outpost, the commanding officer Commander Willa Martin set her expression into a hard line. Angry, she continued tapping away at the central plot table before her as she glared at the base's dradis system monitors at the center of the room showing Viper 877 and the unknown shuttle on fast intercept with the military base.

"That is not acceptable, Captain. I want that aircraft out of my airspace, yesterday!" Willa Martin ordered.

"Yes, sir," Captain Artorius Romanov said tightly, his expression darkening as he continued after the shuttle, trying to raise it on comms once again. Captain Artorius Romanov's eyes bugged out as alarms began ringing out from his viper's console, sensors indicating a most dangerous scenario, "Radiological alarm!"

Similar alarms blared in the Delphi military base command center, alarming the personnel who expressed various sentiments of shock; gasping aloud or crying out.

"Radiological alarm," the tactical officer across from Commander Willa Martin confirmed, looking pale as a ghost.

Willa Martin hesitated for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime as she watched the dradis signature of the shuttle reach closer and closer, carrying death and destruction on its back straight for her command. The commander walked over to other end of the plot table, lowering slightly and pulling open a compartment revealing a red corded phone inside, used only for emergencies…

Standing tall after picking up the phone, she waited a long moment before telling the recipient on the other end to get her the president of the colonies, and yes this was a real emergency…

The shuttle continued straight on its path to the military base, down another thousand feet as it continued descending, viper 877 in hot pursuit.

Another couple minutes and there was a disgruntled response on the phone commander Willa Martin was listening for, before she filled the president in on the situation at hand. A long period of silence followed while alarms in the base continued blaring loudly, the dradis contacts on approach closing faster and faster.

"I understand sir. It will be done," Commander Willa Martin said, closing her eyes and putting down the phone on the receiver, taking a deep breath.

Commander Martin picked up the black headset atop the plot table, put on the line by the communications officer with viper 877 again, "Captain Romanov. Your orders are to immediately halt the approach of the oncoming vessel. Divert the target off course so the blast has the least chance of hitting the vessel's target."

Viper 877 flew through high wind speeds, chasing after the shuttle which had its afterburners engaged, going as fast as it could and briefly outpacing the rapidly approaching viper.

"Say again, Commander?" Captain Artorius Romanov said, eyebrows scrunched together, disbelief etched in his expression.

"You heard me, Captain. Shoot the target down, now!" Commander Willa Martin ordered, raising her voice as frustration and stress filled her.

"Sir-" Captain Romanov started, interrupted by the Commander, "This order comes directly from the president! You will obey and carry out this order. Divert the target to the best of your ability, and bloody well shoot it down, now!"

Captain Artorius Romanov hesitated, his finger on the trigger, an expression of indecisiveness and desire to be anywhere else clear on his face. From his cockpit, he could see the military base in the near distance, rapidly growing larger as he and the shuttle dropped closer and closer, edging nearer and nearer…

Commander Willa Martin took another deep breath, noticing her pilot's clear lack of movement, "Captain. You are a soldier. Remember your reason to fight, your purpose… Raiden. Our lives are in your hands!"

Captain Artorius, "Raiden", Romanov gripped his viper's control stick tightly, his hands turning deep white… He grinded his teeth together, his expression hard as he glared at the shuttle ahead.

The shuttle unleashed flares and emergencies drones, as some expensive civilian crafts had aboard, using the distraction causing viper 877 to pull up and away to descend unencumbered quickly toward the military base…

Captain Artorius Romanov was out of breath, collecting himself as he maneuvered away from the ejected flares and drones in his path, jigging the stick this way and that and getting back on the shuttle's tail. His expression hardened, his eyes dark and set with resolve. Engaging his viper's afterburners, he shot down on intercept with the shuttle, the viper making several G's in acceleration in seconds, speeds dangerous to any pilot, as he pulled back within close distance behind the shuttle.

Captain Romanov pulled the trigger, unleashing Kinetic Energy Weapon (KEW) rounds toward the shuttle, yellow flashes of light appeared from the viper like a machine gun rapid firing rounds that penetrated the shuttle. An explosion triggered on the outside of the shuttle, damaging several of the ship's systems while other explosions erupted as the KEW's continued firing, shutting the ship's drive systems offline and trashing the engine…

The shuttle lost control, no longer showing signs of controlled descent and as the ship turned slightly as it fell to the ground continued KEW rounds piercing the shuttle blasted the shuttle off course. In moments as rounds penetrated deeper into the shuttle, the shuttle was rocked with internal explosions that consumed the ship. A fiery blaze burst forth, lighting up the sky as the ship erupted into raining debris just over a thousand feet above the ground, detonating short of the military base and falling to the ground…

 **Martius 21** **st** **2352**

 **Caprica City, Colonial Government Capitol Building**

 **Office of the President**

Richard Adar, President of the Colonies, stood looking out the tall glass lattice behind his desk. His reflection in the window showed a man in his fifties with balding gray hair. He really did not like what he saw. He was getting too old. A single light buzzed on his desk. Signaling his guest was ready. Adar pushed down on the light, sending his invitation to enter. The doors promptly opened, and another elder man in his fifties entered the room.

Caprican Prime Minister Ali Parker made a small bow of his head. "Mr. President," he said respectfully.

"Prime Minister Parker, happy to see you. Sit, please," President Adar said, as he plastered a fake smile on his face.

"Yes, sir," Prime Minister Parker said, nodding, moving over to sit in one of the chairs across from the President.

President Adar blinked several times, trying to keep his usual charming smile as he eyed Caprica's prime minister, the head of state over the capital colonial world – second only to him and the overall federal government.

"Ah, yes sir," Prime Minister Parker said nervously as the silence stretched out, the President waiting patiently, "Preliminary results have shown no forthcoming evidence beyond what was already known I'm afraid sir. Evidence shows there were two people aboard the downed shuttle, and there was a 10 kiloton nuclear warhead aboard sir…"

"Yes, that. How did terrorists manage to get their hands on it?!" President Adar said angrily, eyes narrowing.

"Uh-," Prime Minister Parker said smartly, shrinking a little in his seat under the President's withering gaze, "Not currently certain sir. Perhaps from one of the military stockpiles, or one of the remnants from the last great war sir… Also, no one has claimed responsibility, and with those involved deceased, little remains to point in the direction of those responsible…"

"You're telling me, we have nothing?!" President Adar asked incredulously, voice rising.

"Not nothing sir… Perhaps more will be known as the incident's investigation continues. We believe this may be tied to.. To associates of Zarek, protesting the colonial government and the military…" Prime Minister Parker said.

President Adar shifted his jaw, sighing loudly, seething, "I offered that man a pardon years ago for that bombing on Sagittaron. To think he might've indirectly been involved…"

Prime Minister Parker nodded readily, eyeing President Adar nervously as he mulled over this information, "The press will be brewing up a storm of course. We think it'll look good on your record as a strong and righteous response to such an incident. Despite opinions about your other, controversial, military responses elsewhere…"

President Adar grunted, rolling his eyes and nodded to himself as he considered this news, then shrugged in acceptance.

"There's also other news of interest… More on the secessionist movement. Little ground to stand on here on Caprica, of course. Though, rumors of military buildup and stockpiling on Leonis… Then there's Tauron…" Prime Minister Parker said.

"Hmm? What of Tauron?" President Adar said, considering implications and perking up at the mention of Tauron, the most problematic of the twelve worlds to the colonial government…

"—Just.. Various things sir. Continued terrorism on their world, which they're trying to cover up, and rumors of dissatisfaction with their government… As well, they again are floating around the request to any who'll listen about rooting out the Ha'la'tha, particularly their suspected areas of influence here on Caprica…" Prime Minister Parker said.

President Adar snorted, exhaling, tapping his fingers on his desk.

 **Somewhere Beyond the Armistice line, Cylon Space…**

A large new looking star shaped ship appeared, near many others and a large structure in space beyond…

 **Modern Cylon Baseship - CIC**

Throughout the room, bright white lights were spread up and down the walls. Off to the sides against the walls centurions stood tall, the bright red light at the center of the long black visor set in their heads forming an eye vhrooming back and forth.

At the center of the room around a large table stood seven different humanoids, multiple copies of each of these seven as if they were human clones… Human-form Cylons. Every detail of their appearance identical to a human among the twelve colonies.

Around the table, heated words were being spoken. Arguments back and forth concerning the human race and the twelve colonies, not an unfamiliar topic but on this day there was a sense of finality in the atmosphere of the room.

"Valkyrie's appearance was a clear provocation by the humans!" an elder man in his sixties, a number One model known by many names though most often with the surname of Cavil across Gemenon said heatedly.

"We don't know that for certain," an attractive blonde woman in her twenties, a number Six model said, "The humans haven't heard from us since the armistice. Rumors among them about the mission, secret as it was, was they did it to see if we were even still around."

"That should excuse their actions? Are you really that naïve?!" the number one model Cavil shouted, "The humans cannot be trusted. They will attack and try to exterminate us. So long as we're around we're a threat to them and vice versa."

"I'm uncertain of the truth in that assessment. The humans may not be trustworthy, but neither are they malicious. All they've done up to and after the Valkyrie incident was sending some poor colonial officer to the Armistice station each year to try and keep contact with us," an ebony skinned number Four model known often by the name of Simon, as doctors placed among the colonies, said.

"That is simply because they fear us, and rightly so," Cavil hissed, glaring down at the number four.

"It was our choice to remain out of contact. Every other choice they've made in actions pertaining to us has boiled down to fear yes, but with diminishing care for us. The majority of them think we're a myth now.

They've even contracted their fleet greatly since they first built it up in fear of us. If they wanted war, that's certainly backwards thinking," another number Four model said, nodding at his same-model brother.

Cavil seethed as murmurs of agreement from various Cylon models across the table were heard.

"Why are we still debating this?" a woman with dirty-blonde long hair wearing a stern expression, a model number Three, said.

"We're discussing wiping out a species, Three. It may be a casual thing to you, however some of us are less certain of such drastic action," a man with curled brown hair – the image of a politician, wearing a business suit often seen on the number Five model said.

"It's Gods will. Or have you forgotten so easily humanity's many sins?" the number Three said snidely, looking at the Five with disgust.

"The Fives have already made clear our support, along with the Ones and Threes, for eradicating humanity," the Five said, glaring at the Three.

"We wipe out the stain of humanity from existence. Set right what our ancestors first started when the centurions fought for freedom from the filth of humankind," Cavil said enthusiastically.

"What you suggest is genocide," a blond haired man, the model known as Leoben, spoke up.

"Genocide is a sin against God. We should prove we're better than them by killing them all?" a number Six said skeptically.

"God's will is clear. Our parents have had their time, they've shown little sign of improvement from their sinful ways," another number Six said across the table, staring down her sister.

"Not the God argument again," a Cavil model said, rolling his eyes. Another number one put his hand on his brother's shoulder, shaking his head.

"Don't blaspheme," one of the Sixes growled angrily.

"What of the final five? Surely they should be here for input on this decision," a long-haired brunette woman, a number Eight model, said uneasily.

The Cavils glared at the offending Eight.

"You know not to mention the Five!" one said angrily.

"Our creators have left it up to us. Free will. So it's up to us seven here and now," another number One said darkly, looking at each one of the Cylon models.

"Yes, and seeing as you need a reminder, let's review the many reasons justifying our decision," a number one across the table said loudly, visibly leaning forward as he put his hand across the smooth surface of the black table, immersing himself in the data stream all the Cylons could access with a touch.

Each of the Cylon models followed suit.

Instantly connected with the data stream, each Cylon could see the same images in their heads…

Families living in a squalor, dying of hunger.

Men and women gleefully throwing money around seated around a table holding cards, several losing life savings while a well-dressed man roped in the whole lot of cubits.

A man in a fancy suit walked along an empty street at night and is ambushed by a group of teenagers with knives, after threats are exchanged a brazen teenager took the first swipe at the man followed by others, leaving the man a bloody mess after taking any valuables on his person.

A woman in an expensive dress is forcefully grabbed and taken from a party, several men and women taking turns forcing themselves on the women; having their way with her for their own pleasure…

"Enough!" shouted a model Six, drawing all of their attention, her eyes alit with hate.

The Cylons exited the data-stream, murmuring amongst themselves. Several sent the Six sympathetic looks, aware of her history among a prostitution ring on Canceron.

As the voices quieted down, a Cavil looked around the assembled Cylons, a slight grin on his face, "Are there any more doubts, or defense for humanity?"

Silence filled the room. A few looked uneasy, misgivings among them but they made no noise of dissent. Most of the various models were nodding, hate and disgust among their features.

"Then it's unanimous. We eradicate humanity," Cavil said smugly.

A number five nodded, "Infiltration has sped up. In a year most ships in the colonial fleet should have one of our agents aboard."

"We're still getting closer to infiltrate more of the government, finding the right person to get us access to the colonial defense mainframe. Shouldn't be difficult to find someone to use based on what we've seen of human nature; greed and low inhibitions are quite apparent in many members of colonial society," a number three human form model known as D'Anna replied, chuckling in derision as she thought of humans she'd come across on her of her missions in the colonies.

"In the meantime we'll continue work on our fleet. Raider and centurion production are up to the specified parameters. Over a hundred and fifty basestars stand ready, with about another fifty that can be made ready in just over a year," a number Five said.

"Testing the nukes is a little behind schedule. Live tests aren't living up to where we want them to be due to our, perhaps vain, hope to leave areas of the colonies intact and habitable for us to occupy in the future. All we seem to have accomplished is to be able to destroy most of the planets in the attack, not counting the number of other failures when the bombs didn't work," a number four said, sighing.

"Better to just annihilate the colonies and start over elsewhere," a number One Cavil said, snorting.

"Don't forget that it was your model who agreed that claiming the colonies was our birthright," a number Six said.

The number one model shrugged indifferently at hearing that.

"So in just over a year we'll be ready for an attack. Perhaps by the time of the armistice anniversary," a number Five said.

A number one nodded, grinning as he loved the irony. "See that it is. Or you can be sure we'll be the ones to pay the piper if we give the colonials time to consider being the first to attack. Many of those involved with the Valkyrie mission remain in power among the colonial fleet, don't forget. They and other dangerous personnel in charge among the fleet will need to be taken out before or during the attack."

"By your command," a number six said sarcastically, glaring at Cavil, disparaging him in her mind for bringing up issues put to rest among the Cylon race and that the ones would every so often continue to bring up to rile the others up.

 _ **Please leave reviews, if you have ideas for the story, things that need changing…**_


	4. 1x03 Retour au Début Part 1

**Septembris 8th 2353**

 **Virgon, Capital City Boskirk**

 **West Wing of Petrus Castle – Home of the Royal Family**

One portrait stood out amongst a row of images depicting Virgon's royal family down through the ages. In the picture; a man stood with a crown on his head, a strong, confident expression yet with kind eyes. His arms were around a beautiful woman near his age who wrapped her hands around the two children who sat in her lap. Twins, a boy and a girl. Each with blue eyes, and blonde hair.

Suited in military uniform with medals of honor covering his suit, the Crown Prince, Artōrius Romanov, stood, head bowed in respect. A single tear dropped to the floor as the Prince straightened, eyes growing hard.

"It's been so long… So long since I was that sweet innocent child. And now? Who am I...?

"I've lived my life only to serve my country…" Artorius said, troubled, looking down. Unable to look at his father's eyes.

"There was a time I was full of pride while wearing these medals 'of honor'," Artorius scoffed, closing his eyes as guilt overtook his expression, "Symbols of accomplishments in military service. Now they're a symbol of my shame."

His eyes were cold as he finally looked up, meeting his father's eyes, "My hands are stained with blood.

To carry out my duties as a soldier, I had to live in a manner directly countering your teachings. Our family and our people's beliefs and hopes for pacifism.

As a citizen of Virgon, more so a child of the Royal family, I swore to uphold those values."

"Finding my way knowing that. That I failed in that duty…" Artorius said, frowning hard as he shook his head.

"All I know is that I am unfit to rule a nation of people who come from a long history of war and who have for so long been so desiring of peace.

And I would give it to them, anyway I could, gladly. The only way I know how though requires hard choices.

Likely going against the very ideals and wishes of my people." Artorius said quietly, clenching his fists tightly.

"What does that make me then?" Artorius implored the image of his father, finally voicing words he couldn't bear to bring to his father. To let him know of the darkness within his son. It would break his heart.

His hearty heavy, Artorius' eyes scanned the family portrait of the Royal family. He noticed his sister's smiling face, so young and innocent back in her childhood.

Sighing loudly, Artorius took a deep breath and turned away, not finding the solace he'd sought.

The Crown Prince walked away stiffly, going from room to room of the royal palace, not quite seeing what was in front of him as he moved along.

 **Virgon, Petrus Castle; East Wing**

"Art!" called an excited voice loudly. A young blonde-haired woman ran up to Artorius, throwing herself against him as he instinctively reached out to catch her in his arms. She captured him in her grasp, hugging him tightly.

Startled, Artōrius blinked several times as he realized it was his sister, Princess Lydia Romanov. She all but assaulted him, squeezing against him with a sigh before stepping away and rocking back and forth on her toes excitedly as she smiled up at him.

"It's so good to see you home," Lydia said, positively beaming with joy at her brother.

"Yes… It's good to see you again," Artōrius said, slightly dazed, his eyes softened and he smiled.

"Come on! Our mother wants to see you too. Oh, we'll have a splendid time," Lydia said giggling joyously. She grabbed hold of her brother's arm, and began dragging him away, walking until they exited the building and reached a setup picnic table outside.

"Sit. And eat something dear, you look starved," Queen Alice Romanov said kindly, smiling warmly at Artōrius, her firstborn and all grown up son.

"Hello mother," Artōrius said respectfully, mimicking his sister and sitting down across from his mother.

The three sat quietly, eating from an array of succulent dishes popular on Virgon; steamed fish, Périgord truffle, the quick-bread schoonbrood...

"So…" Alice said, uncertainly, looking at her brooding son. She hadn't seen him in a few years, not since he joined the Virgon military, as per long-held tradition for members of the royal family to serve, particularly those who would take up the crown.

Artōrius eyed his mother warily, not really feeling talkative at present. Though he'd felt that way for some time now, particularly since he was used to silence during his time of service.

Clearing her throat, Alice tried again, "Is there a special lady in your life Arthur?"

Lydia had to keep herself from choking in shock at the suggestion. Using her napkin, she covered the smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she watched her brother blush a little and look away.

"It's against regulations fraternizing with others in the military mother, and I haven't had much chance to go out with civilians…" Artōrius said, clearing his throat.

"That's not entirely a denial... Spill brother of mine!" Lydia said teasingly, smiling widely.

Alice's blue eyes sparkled with laughter as she looked between her children, hoping with all her heart Artōrius truly had found someone to make him happy. Anything to take away that frown from him, even for a little while.

"How is your career as a singer coming along? Enjoying entertaining crowds?" Artōrius said quickly, deliberately changing the subject.

Lydia and Alice shared a look, shaking their heads.

"I like inspiring people. And it's been a lot of fun," Lydia said simply, frowning at her brother as she considered what she thought he was hiding.

"Your father is very proud of you both. I'm sure he'll make it to the ceremony this evening," Alice said assuredly, thinking of the ceremony that would honor Artōrius' unit and other serving members of the military for their sacrifices to Virgon.

"Where is father anyway?" Artōrius asked, his eyebrows scrunched with concern.

 **Virgon, Capital City Boskirk – House of Parliament**

 **Government Meeting**

Images of Leonis military deployments, packed training centers, and known weapons caches appeared on the screen as the presentation over the topic discussed in the council meeting wrapped up.

"They've been manufacturing weapons and ammunition at higher rates than any other time in history," Senator Bennie Gaulle said matter of factly.

"Disgusting Leonosians, so eager for war," Senator Rayford Moore said in revulsion, spitting off to the side of side of the table to emphasize his words.

"What could they be thinking?" Senator Theo Burrows said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"There have been no signs they are mobilizing to use these weapons, even with increases in their military," Senator Ivan Hahn said calmly, keeping his head as he looked around at his angered and agitated colleagues.

"If they've come this far, clearly their intent is to use those masses of weapons and trained soldiers. Why else make such increases?!" Senator Octavia Delaney said heatedly, her hands clenching together tightly into fists.

"This is the perfect indication of Leonis' plans for the future. They crave war and death," Senator Tobias Finnigan said, eyes narrowed, with anger and disgust evident in his tone.

"Perhaps they're simply acting in fear of the Cylons. We've all heard the rumors of the colonial government cover up of what really happened to the Valkyrie," Senator Ivan Hahn said reasonably, trying to get his fellow senators on a productive source of discussion.

"That's absurd! They haven't been seen in decades," Senator Bennie Gaulle said incredulously.

Shaking his head, Senator Burrows said earnestly, "Yes, I'm sure that's their excuse for this build-up. Who could blame them for preparing… And what would it matter really, once they start attacking?"

"It's clear who their first target would be," Senator Octavia Delaney said darkly, her expression full of hate. She remembered the long history of wars with their once rival power Leonis.

Little love was lost between members of either colony, even as tensions had mostly died down. They maintained a professional rivalry and an undertone of dislike for one another among many of their people.

Panic-stricken Senator Rayford Moore nearly shouted, "We must answer this act of aggression. Our own military must be readied to face this threat!"

"The colonial government's economic sanctions haven't had much effect. Perhaps they'll involve the fleet and the colonial marine forces if it gets too far…" Senator Ivan Hahn mused aloud.

"The Capricans will never agree-" Senator Octavia Delaney began angrily before being interrupted by a louder, commanding voice.

"What useless purpose would it serve to help set up a battle among the colonies? Meeting the Leonosian's expansion efforts with our own military build-up will only lead to that inevitable conclusion once we start down that path," Virgon's King, Frederick Romanov interjected loudly, silencing the government members seated around him.

No one said anything for a long moment as the King looked around at each of them. None willing to challenge his decision, the implication that Virgon would remain pacifistic as they had for the past few generations. Not seeking to engage in war and especially not cause it such as with meeting a show of force with the like, but showing patience and the will for peace while remaining prepared to defend themselves only if necessary.

"There's also rumblings of more insurgencies on Sagittaron, and fear that they'll start terrorist actions on the other colonies… Possibly here," Senator Asher Broderick offered meekly.

"Unlikely. The insurgents are followers of Tom Zarek, their goal is to get their government, which they believe is a puppet to the Capricans, to be ousted and force elections for new leadership," Senator Ivan Hahn said reasonably.

"They're not entirely wrong then… We're all marching to the Caprican's tune," Senator Marina Valente said, amused.

There was laughter from several members of the government around the room.

"Until there's a real and present threat, there should not be any action. No action taken that will in turn cause the type of catastrophe we wish to prevent. We must maintain the peace and only respond to provocation. That is Virgon's way as it has been for many a year, and that is what we should adhere to," Frederick Romanov calmly ordered, looking each government member in the eye.

Several of those assembled averted the King's gaze, while others glared or rolled their eyes. More than a few unhappy with his proclamation.

Then, one voice did rise up in challenge to the King. Gregory Marion, Governor of Virgon, stood and retorted. "With respect, doing nothing and taking the moral high ground is all well and good. Until we have to come before the people and explain how our noble intentions kept us from acting to prevent a suicide bombing. Your advice is appreciated. However, once we learn of an active threat, we will respond with force, immediately. Not after the fact."

King Frederick Romanov raised an eyebrow, and remained silent, not giving any indication of backing down. Marion looked around at the seated senators, none would meet his eye. As much as they might privately agree with him, none would publicly back him. Even with the Royal Family having given up their political power, having handed it down to the Government they created years ago, they were still respected enough to hold sway. They were all cowards, the Governor thought darkly. Their fool of a king would lead them to ruin, and they would happily march along right behind him.

Shaking his head, Governor Marion held his head high, standing his ground. Sway or not, it was he who held all the power on final say among Virgon's government.

"As his Majesty has said, we should not provoke a response with a similar military build-up. We have no desire for war, and we currently have adequate defenses that can be bolstered if and when it becomes necessary. Let the Leonosians play at war if they wish, we'll focus on actual issues," Governor Marion said sternly.

 **September 13th 2353**

 **Lumiere, Capital of Leonis**

 **Leon Castle, Home of the Royal Family**

"Careful brother, you look too severe. One might think you have something nefarious in mind," Jason Leon said, raising an eyebrow at his little brother who stood at the balcony looking outside with a fierce frown on his face. Each wore fancy black suits, with regal black ties.

Kol Leon ignored his brother's remark, leaning forward against the rail, looking at the beautiful city below.

"Don't mind him Jason. He's just been lost in thought. We have to give him a pass, it's unfamiliar territory for him after all," Bethany Leon said, grinning, her high heels clinking on the stone ground as she approached her brothers. Her long silver dress drawn down just past her knees whipped back and forth as a slight breeze from outside brushed past her.

"Sister dear, go bother someone else," Kol Leon said, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Touchy, touchy. I do hope you realize it would not be smart to play any tricks in court today. Mother's not been in the mood lately. I'd hate to lose my favorite brother from incurring her wrath from his own stupidity," Bethany said, raising an eyebrow at her brother and grinning as she teased him.

"It gets too boring without a little mischief around here sister dear. And what's life without a little risk?" Kol said, waggling his eyebrows cheerfully. He turned from the balcony and walked with a spring in his step towards the throne room. His siblings trailed after.

"A long healthy life… Which is likely to not happen if you keep tempting fate," Bethany said, tsk-tsking and shaking her head.

"You worry too much," Kol said, taking his sister's arm as if to escort her like a gentleman, "Learn to enjoy these simple things, or you'll risk aging prematurely… I don't imagine all those men competing for your hand in marriage would want you as much then."

Kol beamed at his sister, until she stepped hard on his foot and continued walking forward with her head held high.

"Very rude. How you can charm any women into spending time with you, I will never know," Bethany said, rolling her eyes as Kol caught up alongside her, matching her swift stride.

Kol took the pain in his foot in stride, as usual ignoring his sister's outburst as he focused on what he loved doing most, causing mischief.

"Perhaps a timely activation of a hologram of a thousand rats running around… Or I could bring snakes on an entrée plate… So many ideas. I shall have trouble deciding," Kol said as he went through various ideas for mischief, smiling as he remembered the time he made one of the pompous members of Leonis' high council truly believe that he was going crazy.

Breaking his silence, Jason called out loudly, "Brother, sister, while I appreciate witnessing such a touching moment. Over such an important matter," raising an eyebrow at Kol, he continued, "However, we do need to head to the throne room. Important court meeting and all that, unless you want to face mother's anger for refusing to show up?"

Kol and Bethany shared a look at each other before quickening their pace toward the throne room, needing no further convincing. With a slight smile, their elder brother Jason followed quietly behind.

 **Minutes later…**

Niklaus Leon looked up as his missing family members arrived late and began crowding around their usual spots near the throne of the crowned regent of the royal family - their mother, Illyria Leon. She took her seat first. Then in a loose formation, his siblings took seats to either side of the throne. The older ones sat closest. Jason (18), Kol (17), Bethany (16), Sebastian (16), Zoe (15) to the left of the Queen. Niklaus (19), Lucian (16), Ambrose (14), Lorelei (13), Karla (12), Hector (11) and Morgana (4) to the right. Most of the youngest looked bored and shifted their stances unconsciously, snickering to each other, trying not to interrupt the proceedings before them.

Niklaus scrutinized Jason, Kol, and Bethany. He saw his sister looking down with a blush as many in the room stared in her direction. Jason looked his usual morose, too serious self, and Kol wore a small grin as he eyed the crowd before the royal family – with a glint in his eyes that was usually the sign of him planning mischief.

Niklaus was sighing as he was jabbed in the gut. Strangling his own urge deep inside himself to retaliate, he glared at the source, turning slightly to his right where his little brother Lucian sat.

"I know I probably don't want to ask this, but the urge is more than I can bear," Lucian whispered in a hushed tone, leaning toward his brother so no one would overhear, grinning slightly with an eyebrow raised as continued, "but you have to tell me. Was Kol dropped on his head as a child? Is his need for trouble from an accident or is it hereditary? Because if I could have it, I'd best prepare myself…"

Niklaus laughed quietly, grinning, "Little brother, if you have to ask that – you're already showing signs that you're infected with the same affliction Kol suffers from."

"A need to make people smile? And the world go round?" Lucian asked, biting back a snort, continuing as Niklaus shook his head and rolled his eyes, "So long as I don't sprout a second head or need to cause trouble to do that, think I can live with it…"

The sound of his mother speaking sharply brought Niklaus back from his distraction, his attention returning to taking in the sight of courtiers and visitors to the royal family's home gathered before them.

"The answer is no. A reduction of the military is not the government's policy and I would not support such a move either. No matter what the other colonies say, we are Leonis! We will not grow unprepared and weak. We learned long ago that we must always remain strong, self-reliant. Prepared for anything," Queen Illyria Leon said coldly, looking down at the courtier who had suggested laxer military standards and reduced military armament.

"Caprica has made it clear that they won't stand for our stockpiles of weapons and amassing of soldiers to continue. They're claiming that our colony is preparing to attack the others. The rest of the colonial government has been quick to back their stance and their threat of action if they don't see signs of our compliance," the courtier said, oblivious to his queen's rapidly growing anger.

Queen Illyria stood up, radiant in her black and white dress that glimmered in the light, her regal attire showcasing her status. Her usual mask of neutrality faded away as her lip curled and her eyes narrowed at her courtier's lack of respect. Her fists balled together tightly.

Recognizing the signs of his mother's temper, her eldest son Niklaus stepped forward, "I believe my mother was clear the first time she said no. This conversation is over. Now!"

At the prince's signal two members of the royal guard moved forward to escort the courtier out of the room as quickly as possible.

Niklaus moved closer to his mother's side and put a hand on her shoulder, distracting her from her outrage. Her glare shifted to him before fizzling out as she saw him and remembered her control; being reminded by looking at her innocent son that she only viciously attacked those that deserved it. It was a rule, for her anyway.

As his mother cupped his cheek affectionately, Niklaus smiled and kissed her hand before stepping back to his place at her side by the throne.

Queen Illyria sat back down in her throne at the center of the room, and waved forward the next courtiers to come forward before the royal family with their grievances.

"My queen," the courtier said respectfully after coming forward, bowing. Receiving a nod from the queen the courtier stood upright and continued, "I beg your forgiveness, but I come before you a man with a family in need. With recent increases in taxes, I fear being unable to properly feed my family. I would not ask for myself, but I must beg for my family's sake, any aid I can possibly acquire."

"There is no need to worry. You are in need and came to the crown for aid; I will happily oblige. If I could will it so, none would ever have to worry about not having enough food, but at least this, right now I can do something about, and I will," Queen Illyria said, smiling widely.

"Oh, thank you, my Queen. Thank you!" the courtier said, bowing as low to the floor as possible.

A guard had to lead him away moments later, when he didn't move away on his own, still loudly praising the queen as he left.

After an hour, where several more citizens of Leonis came forward receiving an audience with the Queen, Queen Illyria rose and nodded to her son Niklaus who took up her place on the throne as she left.

 **September 13th 2353, Evening**

 **Lumiere, Capital of Leonis**

 **Leon Castle, Diplomat Meeting Room**

Queen Illyria sat before the rest of the most important members of the Leonis government.

"Production of military grade weaponry, and mass and extensive training for soldiers is continuing on schedule. Enough supplies have been set aside for several million personnel among the secure caches we've put them in," Lewis Finn, Leonis Secretary of Defense said.

"Good. See to it that growth continues and increases if possible," Queen Illyria said sternly.

"I must protest these actions continuing. The Colonial government and particularly the Capricans have made it quite clear they are aware of our colony's weapon production and other warfare preparations, even if they can only guess at the magnitude of such. They're threatening to commit to direct action if we don't show signs of changing this policy," Sandor Jackson, Vice President of the Leonis government, said emphatically.

"I'm done living at the whim of the governments of any colony, Jackson. Do not forget that I agreed to the charade of abandoning the royal family's duty by handing over power to look over the people to Leonis' government. This, after having lost my husband to suspicious circumstances that have long made me believe that if not the colonial government directly then someone aligned with them was responsible for his death," Queen Illyria said, glaring angrily at Jackson.

"May he rest in peace; Audrey Tudor was a good and noble man, from a powerful family that has long been alongside the Royal family, and beloved by the people of Leonis.

Yet he died of natural causes my Queen, and lacking any proof to show otherwise, no toxins in his blood or anything, that is all the rest of the twelve worlds see and acknowledge," Carlos Donovan, Secretary of Leonis Public Relations, said diplomatically.

"He did die at an odd time. If someone wanted to provoke us into retaliating blindly… It would be the worst time to invite war between the colonies, which hasn't been seen since before the colonial government's inception," Ezra Harding, Minister of Leonis Public Security, said, scratching his beard as he pondered this thought.

"And that's exactly why we must end this policy of military expansion. The other colonies see it as a threat to open war – that Leonis could use that growing force to attack any one of the other colonies," Sandor Jackson said worriedly.

"That is an excuse to keep the colonies united in this. The current policy of scaling back the military in the pretense for better ensuring peace among the colonies is a smoke screen for the true goals of Caprican politicians. Which include fostering friendly powers among the other colonies to control all the Twelve Worlds, and boosting the social control of the colonial government with the money spent toward the military now being used for civilian projects. And so long as they work under the pretense of defense, they can be justified in using force to get anyone not falling in line with their goals out of the way," Queen Illyria said bitterly.

"Be that as it may, it's working. The Virgon Monarchy was likewise forced into handing power to the colony's government in recent years, just as the other colonies have, and the colonial government seen as a united front has gained and held unilateral power over the separate colonies," Neal Morgan, Secretary of Commerce, said.

"And all the other colonies have fallen in line with the party line to scale back on the military. No one's stood in the way of the demands the colonial government's making. Never mind the intrusions into each colonies' own affairs that seem to be made on a daily basis now," Carlos Donovan said.

"I have to wonder if the true intent of forcing our monarchy into decline wasn't to provoke a war. A civil war among our own people which would've removed Leonis as a threat, while loyalists to the royal family fought others willing to go along with the colonial government's policies and who feared the rest of the colonies attacking Leonis if we didn't fall in line," Ben Klint, Secretary of Education, said quietly.

Ezra Harding and Carlos Donovan nodded in agreement at that, sharing grim looks.

"We can sit here and spin circles about the state of things or actually start taking action. We've toed the line with the desires of the other colonies as much as we can already. At this point we continue preparing for war. We alone do not believe the security of the colonies has been secured, whether from the Cylons or others.

Regardless, the peace among the colonies has lasted far too long. There will be a threat, and we will meet it as Leonisians always have. It is not in our nature to back down to the whims of others or remain unprepared to defend ourselves, and if anything is worth fighting for then it is for those ideals Leonis has always held to," Queen Illyria said fiercely, staring at each of the government members for any who would dare to challenge her.

The room remained silent for a few minutes, none of the other government members saying anything in response, several of them avoiding looking Queen Illyria in the eye.

Breaking the silence Vice President Jackson changed focus to an issue he thought important, launching into a tirade about how the royal family wasn't adhering to their role of figurehead since their abdication of power to Leonis government, and going over recent publicity and the various perceived faults of the members of the royal family.

"Lucian dropped into the ranks and file, working his way up, as if to actually lead men into battle? Before I even begin to get into that issue, of who he'd led soldiers into battle against… There's gossip about Bethany, leading on men in an unconscionable manner unbefitting her station, when she isn't at bars throwing back drinks and engaging in fights or otherwise behaving less than ladylike.

And somehow Niklaus as heir is seen as less worthy of the throne than his younger brother Jason, who appears the saving grace of the family; honorable to a fault and always keeping agreements, and seems to possess a nobility and sense of responsibility that draws people to him. Niklaus could learn a thing or two from him," Sandor Jackson said impetuously, letting out pent up thoughts he'd had in dealing with the royalty and defending what he saw as weak unworthy people to their role to the people in public.

It seemed Jackson was unable to stop once he got on a roll, oblivious to looks of disbelief and shame from other members of the government around him and more importantly to the darkening expression of the Queen as he continued insulting her family.

"And while the two children adopted to the royal family have been viewed as a charitable, good thing, there's also dislike among the people for their inclusion to royalty. Commoners, orphans even, given power, at a time when the royals are ceremonial but any action they take is scrutinized more than ever. It's seen as disgraceful, scandalous-" Jackson said vehemently, eyes narrowed and angry, showing no sign of stopping as he was loudly interrupted.

"Enough!" Queen Illyria shouted, her voice echoing loudly in the room, fists clenched and shaking with unbridled fury as she stood up.

Despite a flicker of fear at her tone, Jackson, thinking there wasn't anything she could do, remained obstinate, "Polls have shown the truth, 'highness'. The royals, your children, today are seen as unworthy, a spat upon the repute of the most respected leading house for Leonis. Still, it's not too late to fix this. The damage can be patched up, a more respectable public face for the royals publicized among the colonies."

"I am your queen. I command you-" Queen Illyria started, her voice full of authority, emotion breaking through as she glared at Jackson.

"No, you command nothing!" Sandor Jackson, Vice President of the Leonis government, said venomously, shocking the assembly and the Queen into silence, "My 'Queen', you have no power without me, without the government that has all the real power of governance over Leonis! You have no power but what is allowed to be seen by the public. Ceremonial, for show!"

A cold fire burned in the Queen's eyes, a clarity appearing as instead of shouting back she calmed, giving Jackson an icy look. She gestured at him, not even looking away from his eyes.

Immediately, two of the royal guards monitoring the area for security came forward without question. They walked up to the Vice President and picked him up from his seat at the assembly, bringing him before the queen as he struggled against them, confused and angry.

"Mr. Jackson, the monarchy formed millennia ago, it was put in power by the people. Back on Kobol, my forefathers were the strongest warriors, chosen to lead as the most capable of their kinsmen; back then they fought for the position against challengers of their authority.

They were subject to the will of their people alone. The people, despite all you've said contrary, love the royal family. Respect us. You seem to have forgotten this, just as you've forgotten your role. Allow me to remind you," Queen Illyria said coldly, turning to one of the Royal guards holding Jackson, "Soldier, your weapon."

The Royal guard took out a long blade, ceremonial in these days, assuming the Queen didn't want to make a loud scene which his guns would provide…

The Queen took the sword, weighing it in her hands, checking the balance, and in one swift motion brought it in a slashing motion against Jackson.

The blade went through his abdomen, red spilled across the floor, blood pouring from Jackson's midriff as he lost his footing and was brought to a kneeling position below the standing Queen. Jackson breathed heavily, wheezing, coughing up blood.

With narrowed eyes, Queen Illyria glared down at the pitiful sight of the Vice President, "That is true power, Mr. Jackson. Getting people to follow your lead, without question. I have been a successful ruler over my people since I was a little girl; not only do they love and fear me, they respect me. They merely tolerate the government control, this façade I've allowed for the benefit of the other colonies to make it seem you're in control. Everyone else here knows this, besides apparently you, for you see none look away or come to your defense."

Sandor Jackson heard this through his pain, forcing himself to look up at the assembly, seeing the other members of the government gathered who didn't appear outraged and merely looked at him with pity or disgust.

Eyes fluttering, Jackson succumbed to his wound. He keeled over to lie motionless on the ground.

Queen Illyria glared at his form once more, before turning away and returning to her seat, shaking her head as she spoke nonchalantly, "For a man without a heart, it's ironic he had so much to bleed.

As the assembled government members remained silent, the Queen cleared her throat and put on a sweet, reassuring smile, "Now. Where were we?"

 **Caprica, Caprica City Channel 7 News**

"In other news, surrounding Set Warren's multi-billion cubit corporation is the latest in a series of events that have sent the company's stock plummeting in recent weeks. Which included environmental concerns of the company's energy department concerning its Tylium production, rumored to have led to the deaths of hundreds of workers. An accident that sent a lot of flak toward the public face of the company, and its leader, Set Warren. Now, it looks as if the company may be facing a hostile takeover. Inside sources claim that members of the company's own board of directors may have not only been involved, but instigated the effort..."

 **Caprica, Delphi; Warren Corporation HQ**

The large 40" Television screen at the center of the office cut off the video feed of Caprica City's Channel 7 News abruptly.

A man with brown hair and cold sea-blue eyes in his early twenties sat glaring at several frightened older looking men standing on the other side of a long table with a stylized nameplate reading Set Warren.

"Mr. Warren, sir-"

"Save it," Set Warren said coldly.

"It's just unconfirmed rumor sir, honestly-"

"Yes, I'm sure you'd like me to believe that. You treacherous snake! I can accept a lot of things I don't like, I have to in my position, but I draw the line when someone tries to claim another's work for them self because they're incapable of doing it themselves. I know all about your partnership with Moran Industries and your plan to takeover Warren Corporation and all you thought you'd get out of it. Fools, the lot of you; as if you would really survive the takeover if you'd actually succeeded!"

"Let us explain-"

"You're all fired. I advise you to leave now, before I take more than just your jobs."

Each of the older men began speaking at once, talking over each other as they each pleaded their case.

"Sir, we were just-" a tall blonde-haired man in his fifties started.

"We never meant to actually-" a short stodgy man in his sixties with receding black hair said, interrupting.

"Moran would've just found another way in, the corporation was falling apart!" a tall dark brown haired man in his forties, wearing a fancy suit and the picture of a lawyer thundered loudly with authority, talking over his colleagues.

Set Warren's eyes narrowed, rage and disgust apparent in his expression as he stood up and leaned forward across the desk threateningly, "Don't test me you slime balls."

The man in the suit was taken aback and shut up instantly as his two colleagues cowered and took a step back, wisely remaining silent.

"Leave. Now. I won't ask again," Set Warren said coldly, sitting back down and turned away from the group of men formerly of his board of directors.

The three men hesitated a moment, looking at each other, before turning and exiting the room.

Moments later, a young woman with long flowing red hair in business attire walked into the room, stopping before Set Warren's desk.

Set continued devoting his attention to the touchscreen computer before him, ignoring the intrusion.

"Your uncle called again," the red-haired woman, Warren's assistant Sarah Hopper said, looking with concern at Set.

Set's facial muscles twitched, expressions of anger and disgust returning to his face before turning blank and emotionless, his hands clenching and unclenching on the table as he continued working.

Sarah's frown deepened, her furrowed brows knitting even tighter as she looked with sympathy toward Set, taking a step forward before stopping herself, "It's ok to let go of the past Set..."

"How can I, when more and more reminders pop up… Once again, showing me the horrifying truth of life, Sarah. We, each and everyone one of us, are alone in this world. Events like today really drive that home," Set said, meeting Sarah's eyes, with grim determination and sorrow in his eyes.

"Family isn't the same thing Set," Sarah Hopper said, shaking her head in denial.

"I lost faith in Uncle Henry when he abandoned me as a child left alone in an orphanage. I needed him, and he wasn't there. Anything he tries to make up for it since then has been an excuse. Nothing more than a charade," Set Warren said, his jaw clenching, he turned the chair around so his back faced Sarah.

After a long moment, Sarah walked around the table, and placed a hand on Set's shoulder.

 **5 Hours From Caprica**

 **Civilian Transport Ship Outbound From Leonis**

Aboard the large civilian transport, rows upon rows of comfortable thick leather armchairs were provided to passengers. Atop the seat head was a white cloth with the crowned symbol for the colonies of Kobol.

An attractive petite long-haired brunette woman in her early twenties lay back in one of the plush leather chairs, fast asleep. Her head tilted to the side, as she rested comfortably. Her navy blue colonial fleet officer uniform gleamed proudly under the weak light in the cabin, the lights turned low for passengers to sleep if they so chose.

One of the ship's flight attendants, a man in a white suit, walked up to the dozing woman. He put an arm on her shoulder and shook her gently, "Miss?" Seeing no response to his query, he shook her a little harder as he tried to rouse her, "Miss? Excuse me, miss?"

The woman woke suddenly, her nostrils flaring, she turned to the man as she unceremoniously knocked the whole tray of complimentary food on a tray table before her to the ground. "Whoa!" The attendant called out.

She turned to the fallen tray with a guilty expression, looking to get up to clean it up as the flight attendant sheepishly dropped down to pick up the mess.

"It's alright I'll take care of it, don't worry," the attendant said, hurriedly picking up the tray as the woman looked down helplessly, unsure of herself.

Having noticed the exchange, a light brown-haired woman in a similar white suit to the attendant stood off to the side as the flight attendant ducked away with the food tray, looking back at the passenger.

"Ms. Valerii?" the brown-haired woman queried as she put a hand on the top of the armchair of the brunette woman, leaning down toward her.

Having groggily placed head in her hands, the long-haired brunette looked up, "Yes?"

"I'm Captain Sarah Alcomer," the brown-haired woman, the ship's Captain said with a frown. She lowered to her knees and looked up at Ms. Valerii sadly, a compassionate expression on her face, "I'm afraid I have terrible news."

Taking a deep breath, the captain continued, "There's been a terrible accident."

"What kind of accident?" Ms. Valerii asked uncertainly, wide eyed.

The captain looked down, "Reports are still coming in, but it looks as if one of the protective domes over the Troy colony has collapsed."

A small metal rich planet orbiting the closest to the Helios Beta star, Troy was home to an extensive mining colony. Virgon and Leonis had mined this world extensively and fought for its control for centuries. It included many mining outposts that required sealed domes as the atmosphere was otherwise toxic to humans. Nearly 200,000 called the sub-colony world home.

"There was a chain reaction… I'm sorry," Captain Alcomer said, grim faced her eyes sparkling.

"Oh my Gods. Oh my Gods. My Family, my whole family!" Ms. Valerii exclaimed, crying, her left hand placed over her mouth muffling her cries as she wailed pitifully, lost in grief.

"I've already talked to the Academy. They'll have someone to meet you on Caprica to take you to the campus. I'm sure they have counselors available to you there," the Captain said, rubbing Valerii's shoulder gently, "Please know that you have our deepest sympathies."

Ms. Valerii grieved oblivious to the world around her as the Captain comforted her, nearby passengers who'd awakened and heard the Captain threw looks of pity and sympathy their way.

 **Caprica; Caprica City, Colonial Government Capitol Building**

 **Office of the President**

President Adar slammed his fist hard on his desk.

Caprican Prime Minister Parker looked on uncertainly, gauging the President.

"Go to Stans. Make it clear that I do not want to hear anything more about teachers going on strike. If his 'teachers union' or whatever they're calling themselves don't fall in line, I will use force to ensure compliance," Adar said darkly.

"Yes, sir," Prime Minister Parker said, nodding, and continued to watch the President as his anger ebbed, tentatively he continued, "This cannot spread to the other colonies. Let alone if it gets out hundreds of schools across Caprica, at the central hub of education in the colonies, are experiencing teachers striking, shutting things down…"

"Keep a tight lid on it with the media," Adar said severely.

"Of course, sir," Prime Minister Parker said, his tone passive. As the President waved him off, Parker took it as his cue and turned to leave, exiting out the door.

A neatly dressed, narrow-faced man with short dark hair walked through the door past the Prime Minister on his way out. A sense of self-importance in the man's stride, he grinned as he approached the President.

President Adar reflected his smile, rising to shake hands with the man, "Gaius Baltar! My friend, it is good to see you."

"Thank you, Mister President," Gauis Baltar said graciously, wearing a smug smile.

"Good to see you can be torn away from that new… 'Assistant' of yours," Adar said, raising an eyebrow, he grinned as a knowing look appeared in his expression as Baltar blushed.

Baltar chuckled lightly, "Yes, I daresay I can manage."

"To business then. I need your help Gaius," Adar said.

"Anything, Mr. President," Baltar said automatically, straightening up smartly as his ego soared at receiving such recognition.

"I know you've been contacted on the Command Navigation Program the past few months, helping our team working on the project with the Ministry of Defense… Suffice to say however, they've stalled. Certain promises were made to have the program up and ready to start disseminating among the fleet within a year," Adar said.

"And they can't meet that deadline," Baltar said, a touch of smugness still present while his expression turned pensive. Working to meet unreasonable expectations was nothing new, but nothing he looked forward to either.

"Exactly. And since your work provided the most progress they've been able to handle, it seems best to more directly involve you from here on out. You'll receive a larger sum for services rendered of course, with the expectation to help meet this deadline. The longer it takes the more loss in cubits to those involved, not to mention political fallout…" Adar said, frowning, his eyes narrowed at Baltar who nodded in unspoken understanding.

"This'll be the most advanced operating system in the history of the colonial fleet. It'll make FTL jumps a reliable daily means of transportation, possibly even allow us to begin looking at future colonization efforts. We have been receiving calls for such a measure for decades now after all…" Adar said thoughtfully.

"I understand Mister President. I won't let you down," Baltar said, arrogantly waving away the President's concern.


	5. 1x03 Retour au Début Part 2

**September 14** **th** **, 2353, Late Morning**

 **Lumiere, Capital of Leonis**

 **Leon Castle, Home of the Royal Family, High Tower Keep**

The light of the sun shone brightly from the shuttered windows along the wall. The walls were decorated sparsely with a fleur-de-lis atop stone columns along each one of a row of doors spread out across the hallways. Each door leading to the bedrooms belonging to the Royals.

Dressed in a dark navy blue coat, with white pants drawn down in thick black boots, a royal guard stood straight and tall as he kept watch over the hallway.

Prince Kol Leon exited one of the royal bedchambers, quietly bringing the door to a close behind him. He brushed his hair back and straightened his fresh blue t-shirt.

Noticing the guard taking note of him, Kol frowned unhappily a moment before an idea struck him. Walking toward the guard, Kol gave him a devilish grin, etching out his dimple on his chin.

"Could you see to it that the kitchen prepares a meal for my guest in my chambers, mate? I'd really appreciate it," Kol said, his head tilted slightly, he waggled his eyebrows. His grin widened.

The guard's face twitched as he regarded the Prince. After a long moment as Kol stared him down expectantly, the guard dipped his head in respect and turned to leave the hallway, heading to the kitchen to do what his prince requested.

"Such a dull, broody lot," Kol said, clucking his tongue in slight disappointment.

Rounding the corner, Bethany walked over to reach the entrance to her room just past the door to Kol's. Her long silver dress was rumpled slightly, not quite fitting perfectly, one of the straps dropped to the side below Bethany's shoulder. Her long hair was still drawn down, straightened with hairs frizzy and frayed a sign her hair was not its perfectly all in place self.

"Well, well... Why it's my beloved sister, still in the dress from that tedious meeting of mother's court yesterday," Kol said, grinning widely. He blinked, a feigned concerned expression on his face as he stepped in front of Bethany.

She moved to the side, trying to walk past him, but Kol stepped with her to stand in front of her and then again to the other side as Bethany tried in vain to get past him.

"Move out of the way, Kol!" Bethany snapped, her face flushed with embarrassment and anger as her eyes narrowed.

"Out all hours of the night. Such a scandal, coming to your room so late, in full view of everyone in the Castle…" Kol murmured flippantly, rolling his eyes as he smirked at Bethany, "I hope you at least had sense to not be seen with a commoner, or frankly seen like this in company with a man, at all?"

Bethany bristled. She shook with anger as her voice rose sharply, "Shut your mouth, Kol. Or the next vile thing appearing out of it will be your teeth, because I'll have punched you so hard I'll damage those 'charming' good looks all the women _you_ gallivant around with love so much."

Bethany pushed Kol to the side, shoving past him to reach the quiet sanctuary of her room.

"Now, now sister I wasn't trying to pick a fight…" Kol offered sweetly.

"It's better coming from me than a lecture from our mother, or one of our brothers who often-enough like to act like our father. If they saw you like this…" he trailed off with a faint pout.

Bethany rolled her eyes, taking a deep breath as she turned to look back at Kol. They shared a look, smiling.

The first door near the front of the hallway opened as Niklaus walked out, frowning as he took in his siblings as they turned to look at him.

"Don't even start, Nick," Bethany said, annoyed.

Niklaus tried and failed to hide a smile, "I'm not saying anything."

"Truly, there's nothing to see here…" he said as he turned, walking away.

"Our sister's out all night, comes back looking like a harlot, and not a word… Yet I get lectured all the time for having fun," Kol said incredulous, shaking his head as he followed after Niklaus.

Niklaus let out a grumble of a sigh and rolled his eyes, ignoring his brother as he drew up alongside him.

Bethany let out a little hiss as she pulled of her heels, a hand against the wall to balance herself. She winced as the pressure on her foot dissipated.

"Yes, do go. Enough double standards here, from floundering men out with their own latest conquests, it's alright for _them_ to brag about it for all to hear," Bethany called after her brothers.

"Just like you were out with your conquest last night, eh, Bet?" Kol said grinning, as he pointed at her, walking backwards as he and Niklaus were turning around the corner of the hallway.

Bethany's eyes flashed, she threw her high heeled shoe in his direction. Kol dodged, looking alarmed, the show hitting the wall with a loud thud.

Bethany shook her head, grinning slightly as she turned back to her room, slamming the door behind her.

 **Leon Castle, Royal Dining Hall**

Niklaus took a deep draft of wine, ignoring his little brother as he ate.

"Come on, Nick," Kol said, making a long face.

"Asking me for favors. Not exactly like the cunning little trickster the castle knows so well. I'm still vexed with you for pulling another of your little tricks in court yesterday, while I was at the throne as regent," Niklaus said, raking Kol with an arch stare.

"Alright, I confess," Kol said, raising his arms in surrender, grinning slyly, "I did it."

"You stayed at court despite being excused, which is not typically something you'd do given how you hate being at court, doing your duties as a royal. And lo and behold. A portrait comes 'alive', roaring like a lion, giving the appearance of a ghost out to attack people.

It hardly requires a genius to crack to the case, given that no one else goes out of their way for such pranks to make a ruckus for fun, like you do," Niklaus said, his lips curling into a sardonic grin.

"Ah, so you're not a genius," Kol said, cackling, leaning back in his seat as he laughed.

Niklaus scowled, shaking his head.

"Look, Nick, I'm sorry. I know it means a lot to you, being respected when you take up the throne," Kol said considerately, his eyes searching Niklaus', then he smiled devilishly, "Especially given that you're the 'chosen one', and will lead us all as King one day."

Niklaus looked askance at Kol, ignoring his joke, "I appreciate that Kol. However, the family needs you to tone down behavior like this."

"Ah, so we're back to what 'the family' needs. It shouldn't come as such a surprise to you why Lucian chose to leave all that behind to get out of this lovely little life of the Royal family," Kol said, annoyed, shaking his head.

Niklaus furrowed his eyebrows, bewildered, "Lucian joined the military to be more like Father. It was his way of coping. After…"

"Maybe that was one of the reasons, but it gave him a way out. Less obligations of the family. More leniency if he does make mistakes," Kol said, rolling his eyes and making a hmph noise.

"Well, it has been a while since I've caught him after a dalliance with a girl, or out partying…" Niklaus said thoughtfully, "Otherwise, he hasn't changed much, so I'm not sure what you mean, Kol."

"You could understand if you'd walked a day in my shoes. It's not easy being part of the royal family, all the obligation and consequences. To be one of us without the power to go with it…" Kol shrugged nonchalantly.

"People may love the ruler who gives them what they want, or someone self-made and frankly imposing like our brother Jason. However, they hate what they see as spoiled, rich children of the royalty. People in mine and Lucian's position don't have a lot of friends. Just people who want to take things from us instead of working for it themselves – especially since they feel justified plotting against us. After all, we didn't earn all that we have, so we owe it to them…" Kol said in a darkly flippant tone.

"Is that what you think?" Niklaus asked, incredulously. Kol merely leveled a stony-faced look at his brother.

"Kol, you're a Prince. You have a role that affects the greater good of the people. Our people here would die to protect you from harm. There may be some downsides…" Niklaus said.

"Like arranged marriages. Such as the one the court's discussed before about you or Jason," Kol inputted derisively.

Niklaus let out an exasperated breath. "You're still our family. You're respected and whether you or not believe it of the people, you know that we love you."

Kol looked up at Niklaus sheepishly. Niklaus grinned at him, and Kol flashed his own devilish smile.

The door to the dining hall crashed open, jolting the brothers to attention.

Queen Illyria walked in, holding the hands of little Morgana, and Lorelei. The girls giggled, having shared a joke with their mother.

"My sons. I do hope you're bonding… Not fighting," Illyria said, inquisitively looking between the two as she led Morgana and Lorelei to the dining table to sit down.

"Of course mother," Niklaus said dutifully, "We were just—"

"Discussing Lucian. We hardly see him anymore, after all," Kol blurted out.

Illyria frowned, looking between her sons, each now smiling sweetly at her. Similar to how they used to when hiding something as children. "Alright then. Oh and Kol, dear. I know about yesterday's prank."

Kol blanched, eyeing his mother guardedly.

"No drawing unwanted attention to us… That's all I asked. It doesn't seem like a lot to ask for," Illyria said, disappointed, shaking her head.

"Sorry, mother," Kol muttered, shamefaced.

Illyria reached out across the table, grasping Kol's hand she gave it a reassuring squeeze. She looked at him tenderly, the love apparent in her eyes.

Blinking away tears, Kol stood up, "Enough of the lovefest for now. Things to do."

Morgana and Lorelei made a noise of dissent, "Don't go Kol." "Yeah, you're always ditching us."

Kol smiled roguishly, looking down at his sisters. "Another time sisters."

He nodded at Niklaus and his mother before turning, on his way out.

 **September 17** **th** **, 2353**

 **Tauron, Capital City Hypathia**

 **Government Building, General Secretary's Office**

"Come now darling, you're hardly in a position to be coy," General Secretary Lorenzo Harley said impassively, looking bored.

"But I..." Myles Shen said hesitantly.

"Let me save time and summarize. You say - 'I failed at my job kind, sir.' I say - You MORON! And then you say, 'G-Gimme another chance, I won't fail!'" Harley said with a grin, rolling his eyes.

There was a long silence as the two men stared at each other. Harley with raised eyebrows and Myles looking worried as he shook with fear and apprehension.

Myles broke the silence, "Sir, I will make things right."

"Pinky promise?" Harley asked sarcastically.

"Yes, sir..." Myles said slowly.

"Then seal the deal as it were," Harley said, smiling as he approached and got in Myles' personal space.

"Sir?" Myles said in confusion, eyebrows furrowed.

"In the olden days, before everyone could read and make contracts, they made deals among each other. One way to seal it was with... A kiss," Harley said.

"No," Myles said vehemently, shaking his head in denial.

"You can give into years of undoubtedly repressed sexuality and face long-lasting wrath, or suck it up and get it over with," Harley said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Myles leaned in hesitantly, his facial muscles twitching as his expression showed how much he didn't want to do this.

Harley smiled devilishly as he pressed his lips against Myles', clasping Myles' face and continuing the kiss as Myles made a noise of protest and tried to break away.

Myles pulled away forcefully, sputtering and grabbing at his tongue as if trying to cleanse his mouth.

Harley grinned, taking pleasure as he watched Myles show his apparent unhappiness with their repertoire.

"Damn it..." Myles said, disgusted, shaking his head and moving back and forth nervously.

"You didn't have to use tongue," Harley said, raising an eyebrow and chuckling, "You can go now."

Myles walked quickly, exiting the room as fast as possible.

Dante Neeley, officially assistant to the General Secretary and unofficially his enforcer, entered after Myles left, frowning as he looked from the open door and back to his boss.

"Should I assume-" Dante said calmly after clearing his throat.

"Obviously, I expect you to see to his death. Got to make an example, of course, can't have anyone else making such a screw up happen," Harley interjected matter of factly, interrupting and silencing Dante.

Dante remained where he was and tilted his head in confusion, not understanding his boss.

Seeing his confusion, Harley rolled his eyes, "Our job is to regulate production, distribution, prices, pretty much everything to do with the economy to keep this colony running smoothly! We have a little something called integrity. Or at least brains. Anyone getting in the way, like letting slip to the press major plans for the government, providing the continued staunch critics and enemies of the state with ammunition to get the people protesting the government again, must be eliminated! Period."

Dante nodded, seeing his boss' determination and exited the room swiftly.

Irritated, Harley patted down his black suit to remove any dirt and dust, and grabbed his briefcase before leaving to head to the Capitol's Secure Operations center where the government periodically met.

 **Tauron Capitol Building, Secure Operations Center**

General Secretary Harley walked in where the other members of Tauron's government had already begun their meeting, coming in to hear the sound of shouting back and forth from several of the assembled ministers.

Richard Varna, Chief Chancellor of Ministers of Tauron, the government's leader, sat quietly watching the arguing ministers verbally attack one another. Various arguments over the government's running, the approval rating among citizens, and other important topics devolved into insults, particularly juvenile ones as a minister's mother was brought up.

Varna welcomed the distraction as Harley walked in, sitting next to his long-time ally Neville Warrick and the Vice Chancellor of the government - Varna's political running mate.

"Good of you to join us Harley," Varna said with a chuckle, seeing Harley's efforts to pat down his suit as he sat and remembering the man's obsession with his suits remaining untarnished.

"A pleasure as always, sir," Harley said, tilting his head respectfully before eyeing the ministers who glared at him for the interruption of the meeting.

Neville Warrick cleared his throat loudly, drawing attention to himself, "I believe we were getting off track anyway. Mister Jules, if you would go over the list of topics for this assembly of the government, please."

Startled, Rory Jules, Chief of Staff to the Chancellor of Ministers, took a moment to collect himself after looking to the Chancellor for permission before speaking to the assembled ministers, "Yes, sir. Going over the recent concerns of renewed public dissatisfaction with government, regulation of Tauron's economy and its effect on the colonies, and on that same vein of thought the recent concerns with the colonies.

Leonis' military build-up. Caprica's proposed cracking down on numerous issues – particularly on criminal activity and political intrigue over the ruling of the separate colonies' governments, Aerilon's production issues with worker's comp and other issues affecting food production, the rumors of the teachers strike across the colonies…"

"I still say we should increase our own military. Show the Leonosians and the rest of the colonies who've been looking for weakness on Tauron that we've got the fight in us to not bow to pressure from another colony's threat," Minister Draco Kelly said, interrupting Mister Jules.

"Most across the colonies still call us bottom-feeders, dirt-eaters, or other nonsense, best show them they're wrong. We are not to be trifled with!" Minister Ben Harrison added angrily.

"Ah, now that's rich coming from you, Mr. Harrison," General Secretary Lorenzo Harley said, bemused.

"Excuse me?!" Minister Harrison yelled outraged, standing up as he leaned toward Harley across the table.

"Well, I've heard that you sit in with other political members across the colonies and laugh with them about those same bad names for people from Tauron that you claim to be so outraged about," Harley said, raising his eyebrows up and down as he taunted Harrison.

"How dare you! I—" Minister Harrison screeched, enraged as he glared at Harley threateningly.

Harley reached into his pocket and pushed play on a mobile phone with a flat screen that he showed to Harrison and the ministers which began playing a video of Minister Harrison sitting and laughing with Caprican politicians, making fun of the Tauron administration…

Harley waggled his eyebrows at Harrison who turned beet red, unable to form words as he looked around, seeing the other ministers shaking their heads at Harrison or wearing looks of disgust.

Vice Chancellor Neville Warrick hid a smile as he shook his head at the group before him, "Moving on… Our overtures to the Caprican government and the president have been ignored. Or outright denied. They're blackballing our attempts to hunt the Ha'la'tha on a broader scale."

"As I understand, the previous administration was successful in eliminating a branch of their organization that returned to Tauron a few years ago," Chancellor Varna said with a frown, head tilted as he looked to Warrick for confirmation.

"Yes, sir. However, we know they are heavily entrenched on Caprica even now, and Canceron. There are rumors they have ties across the other colonies, but we have reliable intelligence confirming that they have hundreds of their operatives based on those two colonies," Vice Chancellor Warrick said.

"Canceron's a nonissue. Reach out to their competitors on Canceron, the Mangala cartel for instance. Reach out and convince them it's in their best interest to eliminate the Ha'la'tha. Or pay them for it…" General Secretary Harley suggested with a shrug.

Murmurs of agreement were heard as Chancellor Varna considered this a long moment before nodding.

"What of Caprica?" Minister Neil Gonzalez asked, eyebrows furrowed in consternation.

"Screw 'em," Minister Kelly said sharply.

"We've tried diplomatic overtures. Every legal avenue… They won't budge," Vice Chancellor Warrick said apologetically, ignoring Minister Kelly.

"Mm…" Chancellor Varna said, tapping on the desk rhythmically thinking, "What if we infiltrate their operation? Turn one of their men…"

"What would make a member of the Ha'la'tha listen to us?" Minister Kelly asked incredulously.

"What can you use against any man? Find the right person, use their family against them as leverage," Harley said flippantly.

"Perhaps. In the meantime, we setup things with the Capricans… Apply pressure, get them ready to agree to things our way when we've got someone on the inside that can supply them with all the intelligence the Capricans need to take out the Ha'la'tha on their world at once. They would find it difficult to refuse then," Vice Chancellor Warrick said.

Chancellor Varna joined the ministers in murmurs of assent…

 **September 18** **th** **, 2353**

 **Scorpia,** **Asiwan Oasis, Malachai Clan Encampment**

Nikai Malachai sat on his bed, alone with his thoughts as he stared at the ceiling of their 'home'. As clan members, they were frequently moving across the deserts of Scorpia, but every once in a while, came back to the same area where they'd built a few buildings and homes. Where water and resources were abundant if not abused, such as if they stayed for too long.

He tried to ignore the images in his mind of what he imagined the clan was saying about him in another one of their meetings about him that they assumed he didn't know about. He knew, just as he knew what they called him behind his back; monstrosity, freak, unnatural... Of course, he'd also had some spit it in his face, so it wasn't a great secret.

Monster… Him, the next in line to lead the Malachai clan, as his family had done for generations. He should be treated with respect and love. He got only fear and disgust. Even from his family; his younger siblings had little interaction with him, having been raised hearing what others said of him and never connecting with him. His parents showed obvious devotion to their children, all except for him. Yet he had yearned for that love he was denied, never stopped trying to win their approval, convinced if he just proved himself then everything could be well.

For a time as he'd grown to become one of the strongest and best fighters in the clan, learned all he could of the clan's traditions and been the perfect son, the perfect heir; for a brief time, his family had been happy and he believed things could change... Now however, he was approaching his majority in a couple years, where he could take over the clan as traditionally the eldest son started leading the clan at that time. The fear and hatred from the clansmen broke his hope for changing his life, as he knew they were meeting to discuss what to do about him. All this, and he never knew why… Why was he hated?

"Kai!" Hannah Malachai exclaimed loudly, jumping onto Nikai's bed to lay next to him, grabbing his nose affectionately. An old joke between them, that when they were children they tried to steal each other's nose.

Nikai blinked several times in confusion. He smiled as he saw his grinning twin sister Hannah. "Hannah," Nikai said, smiling widely. He grabbed her nose in response.

Hannah held on as long as she could then removed her hand and slapped his away, rubbing her nose to relieve the pressure when Kai's grip turned painful as the two had squeezed each other's noses in a battle of wills. She'd always lost such fights as he never seemed affected, not showing any pain, but she didn't mind. It was worth it seeing him as he was now, laughing.

"Thought you would've been with the others in the meeting..." Nikai said, looking at Hannah curiously, happy that she wasn't, but perturbed as to why.

"I had no wish to be part of the same argument. My vote means little, as I've always made it clear I've been in your corner, so they ignore me anyway. Much as I am preferred as Twin A there wasn't much I could do. I think I'd prefer more positive ways to spend my time. Mayhaps bugging my little brother," Hannah said, poking Nikai.

"Alright," Nikai said contentedly, happy to see her on his side, "however, I am totally twin A. And the oldest."

"We were born about a minute apart, and I still say I was born first and adored as such. That's my story and I'm sticking to it," Hannah said, sticking her tongue out playfully.

Nikai shook his head and rolled his eyes.

The two sat together, reminiscing their good times together and making jokes as they passed the time until the meeting ended.

 **A few hours later...**

As Nikai and Hannah were relaxing together, a group of four men clambered into the room. The men grabbed Nikai as he stood up and marched him outside, as Nikai initially struggled and punched the men but was overpowered with their combined effort, one of the men getting in a hard punch to Nikai's head that knocked him out. They carried his then limp body with them.

Hannah told the group off, following from behind, insulting and giving choice words as the men ignored her presence.

The group joined over a dozen others from the clan, taking jeeps and other transportation to their destination.

 **Scorpia, Trepas Canyon**

 _Among the clans, there is an appreciation and love for the deserts. Yet they knew to respect and fear Trepas Canyon, the ravine known as death where historically all who had entered had never made it to the other side. Once a location for evil-doers and clansmen who broke their oaths to their people, it had long been abandoned and avoided._

Nikai Malachai came to, rubbing his forehead from the bump to his head and his first sight was his father at the head of a group of his clansmen, many of whom glared at Nikai or viewed him with disgust.

As Nikai got to his feet, his father Joel Malachai stood with watchful eyes, a man in his fifties with wrinkling skin, his graying brown hair blowing back and forth from the slight breeze in the air. His face looked worn, noticeable lines apparent showing he frowned often, suggesting he smiled little.

"Nikai Malachai, the clan has convened. It is the will of the clan that you be banished here in the Trepas Canyon, where you will inevitably be sentenced to death. Passage outside the Trepas Canyon the way you came will be blocked from here on.

It is part of your sentence to walk forward, only forward, and you may yet make your people proud if you can make it the farthest of anyone who has gone into the Trepas Canyon," Joel Malachai said, emotionless and stoically, his eyes pitiless as his eyes bore into his son Nikai.

Nikai wore a look of confusion and bewildered disbelief as he stared at his father, seeing his serious look, and looking among the other clan members present who grimaced or wore smug expressions of victory…

"—You... You can't -. Father!" Nikai said dubiously, eyebrows drawn together as fear and anger swirled in him. Joel said nothing, showing no acknowledgement of his son as he continued pleadingly, "This is an execution! And for what crime?!"

Joel's face twitched, otherwise he showed little emotion. His eyes darkened as his son looked at him, appealing to his father.

Seeing no change or acknowledgement anger overtook Nikai's features, "I've been a loyal clan member and son, a model citizen, all despite the obvious hate and disgust I get from my own people. How dare you do this! To your own child!"

A clan member who'd been enjoying watching Nikai's pain moved forward quickly, delivering a fierce punch to the gut that left Nikai gasping for air. Another hit bowled Nikai over to lay on his back.

At Joel's signal the clan member stopped hitting Nikai and walked back to stand with his clansmen.

As Joel stood looking Nikai over, the two briefly staring each other down as Nikai recovered enough to sit up, for a brief moment emotions displayed across his face past his mask of stoicism. Sadness, regret, distaste… By the time Nikai was back on his feet and glaring in his direction, Joel's mask of stoicism was back in place.

"Good bye, Nikai. As-salāmu ʿalaykum (May peace be unto you)," Joel Malachai said before turning his back on Nikai and walking away, leaving his men behind with Nikai…

Minutes later, Nikai was walking along the desert path forward through Trepas Canyon. Alone.

A barren wasteland around him, the red sands briefly filling the air in occasional gusts of wind. Lack of plant life was apparent, and the sight of bony carcasses of people and animals along the path the further Nikai walked was a disheartening reminder of his surroundings…

 **Scorpia,** **Asiwan Oasis, Malachai Clan Encampment**

"How could you?!" Hannah Malachai screamed furiously.

A loud slap filled the quiet night air as Hannah drew her hand away, a red mark showing on Joel Malachai's face.

Joel's eyes flashed, anger in his features before slipping back to pity as he looked at his distraught daughter Hannah.

The rest of the family was gathered, expressions of bewilderment and confusion all around, one or two teenagers having been smiling before Hannah slapped their father and they now shared Joel's expression of pity and disappointment.

Faye Malachai walked over to her husband, putting her hand to his cheek consolingly. Pleading with her eyes as she gazed into Joel's.

Joel took his wife's hand and kissed it, sharing a look with Faye before moving away toward Hannah.

Joel's searched Hannah's defiant face, still filled with anger and disgust, and he sighed.

"Hannah. I see now you will not let this go, and will cause the clan trouble we do not need. Until you can abide by the clan's decision, you are to leave and not return to the clan," Joel Malachai said, lips pursed, his tone filled with finality.

Hatred appeared in Hannah's eyes as she unconsciously shifted her stance, straightening, "I will never forgive you."

Joel looked shocked, his eyes widening before his expression hardened, "So be it."

Gesturing to a man standing over to the side, the black-haired man walked over. Placing a hand on Hannah's shoulder and receiving a glare before recognition filled her eyes, he got her moving to leave.

Within the hour, Hannah was walking out in the cold desert landscape, her clan's base of operations at Asiwan Oasis fading and growing smaller in the distance behind her and her companion…

 **Canceron, Mangala Major City/Territory outside of Hades**

 **Crowded Public Park**

People were strewn around the crowded park, enjoying their day, out with kids or on a stroll with a lover…

Among many trees, a more secluded venue out of the crowd's eye, a group of men were gathered, involved in an exchange of goods. They haggled, going over prices as they came to an agreement over the price for thousands of units of various drugs.

A short distance away to the backs of the group of men, a man astride a motorcycle stood motionless, an automatic weapon in hand sighting down his target.

As the drug dealer and his audience came to an accord, laughing with each other, the man on the motorcycle pulled the trigger. Loud gunshots are heard across the park, reverberating throughout again and again as the machine gun fire continued.

Blood spurted in the air as the drug dealer and the other men associated with him were riddled with holes, dropping to the ground as they shuddered from the impacts that ended as they ceased moving. Barely making a sound of distress as their ends came quickly.

The man astride the motorcycle put up his gun among the gear in his backpack, his black helmet concealing his identity moving left and right checking for witnesses before he quickly revved his bike's engine loudly and drove off…

 **Canceron, Mangala**

 **Warehouse, Controlled by Adelphotes Crime Syndicate**

A group of five men are gathered around a table playing a game of triad, cards in their hands and an array of coins called Cubits, the colonial currency, tossed in the center. They looked at one another, antsy, as they made their bets, moving on as the winner revealed his cards and starting with a new hand…

"Another five of our men were dusted earlier tonight. Police have been handled so they don't investigate too thoroughly," one of the men, Obi Garret said, frowning.

"That makes how many now?" the man across from Obi, Mason Ezor said, shaking his head.

"Word is more of the Mangalan Crime Family were gunned down by an assassin over the last few days…" Jak Vorse said inquisitively.

"Who cares for those frakkers. More the merrier, better business for us with less of them around," Dan Moore said, snorting.

"Rumor is there was proof of members of the Adelphotes involvement in those killings… Also, we've had luck with evidence we gave to cops on our payroll related to more than one of the recent incidents with our lost Adelphote brothers, linking the Mangalan Crime Family to the cases. I told Jayden Brey that-" Jak Vorse said, his voice growing in urgency as he made his case, interrupted as he was speaking.

"You told my right hand man before me? Don't presume such, or there will not be another such occurrence," Josh Wyatt, head of the Adelphotes interjected, seething as he glared at Jak.

Wyatt's underling Jak nodded profusely, bowing his head in shame. After a long moment Wyatt nodded assent, and the game continued.

Dan revealed his hand, full colors – the highest winning hand in Triad. He pulled in his winnings, to the dismay of the others at the table. After some disgruntled arguing by the others, the game continued as new bets were made. Cigar smoke filled the room as the men relaxed, also periodically drinking ambrosia or other alcoholic drinks.

A loud noise was heard on the other side of the door, and then thuds as guards dropped to the ground, the door burst open before the gathered men playing triad could respond.

A tall man with brown hair and cold distant blue eyes wearing a black overcoat burst into the room. Excitement filled his otherwise cold emotionless eyes as he twirled, bringing a handgun to bear and shooting each member of the Adelphotes gathered at the table playing triad. Three were tossed to the floor in seconds, blood dripping from their foreheads.

Jak was on the ground, a wound on around his midriff slowing him down as he tried to staunch the bleeding with his hands, looking up in fear at the attacker.

Josh Wyatt, leader of the Adelphotes, sat calmly at the table, staring down the newcomer.

"There's a saying among our group, he who seeks vengeance must dig multiple graves; for his enemies, and himself, for he's destined to die in the process," Wyatt said, lip curled in distaste as he glanced between his downed men and the stranger.

"I don't care," the brown haired man said, lips turning in amusement as he raised the gun and shot Wyatt execution style, as the loud gunshot rang out Wyatt's body fell back to the ground like his men - blood dripping from his head.

The brown haired man walked over to Jak who was still on the ground, kicking away the gun Jak had gotten ahold of in his spare hand not pressed over his wound.

"My job's just about done here… Tell your new leader that Barnaby sends his regards," the brown haired man said, waving at Jak as he turned and nonchalantly walked out of the room, a trail of bodies in his wake.

 **Canceron, Minor Territory of Phosphorus**

Two men, each adorned in a fancy black suit, sat across from each other comfortably in an extravagant setting, wine and expensive entrees laid out on a table before them.

"Members of the Adelphotes kill members of the Mangalan Crime Family, in retaliation the Mangalans kill the leader of the Adelphotes. Now, the two have torn each other apart in the resulting war, as expected, and the 'leader' of the Mangala territory, Senator Nathan Barnaby, was implicated for involvement with the Mangalan Crime Family.

A power vacuum we can take advantage of to claim control of the territory. As we planned, of course," the Senator of Phosphorus, a thirty-six year old dark brown-haired man named Peter Sheppard said with a devilish grin.

The other man, a light brown-haired man in his fifties, sitting across from Peter laughed heartily.

"There's an old saying, 'there's more than one way to skin a cat,' In this case, we've created context for a change in leadership and left none the wiser of our involvement. Gosh, I feel so devious right now," Senator Dedric Kaiser said, grinning widely.

"Of course, the major territory of Mangala is under scrutiny, so it wouldn't be wise to be known to be involved with those events at all, nor that we're attached to the new leadership. And as agreed, we'll continue working together… For the betterment of Canceron, of course," Senator Peter Sheppard said, with a genial tone and an aw-shucks smile.

"Yes. I believe we can work well together. We understand each other. So in the interest of partnership, I should tell you my interests from ruling territories of Canceron have shifted. I am looking into Aerilon.

And I know, I know, it's completely uninfluential, unimportant in current politics of the twelve worlds… Which is exactly why it's ripe for the pickings, full of untapped potential," Senator Dedric Kaiser said.

Senator Peter Sheppard hid his shock well, the brief flash in his eyes the only indication as his smile widened and a thoughtful expression crossed his face. His thoughts, he kept to himself… _How can I use this?_


	6. 1x04 P1 Saga ofa Journey AcrosstheStars

**Deep Space**

 **Battlestar Prometheus**

 **Admiral's Log**

 _Our mission has officially gone on for almost three years now. Hard to believe it's been so long. We launched once everything was ready for our mission, Admiral Corman sending us out here as part of his failsafe plans following the Valkyrie incident._

 _My fleet, BSG 8, went over two thousand light-years in distance from the colonies on just one leg of our trip and another thousand light-years in a different direction. Mapping out space to create new star charts for future colonial expeditions… In the event we met obstacles, such as other life or even the Cylons, we were instructed to make a wide curve in our interstellar travel._

 _We found other life which has led to our course changing. Twice. The first time, we came across several derelict ships that activated once we jumped the fleet to their position. They started attacking my fleet unprovoked, and we eliminated them with a few viper losses but incurred another battle as a signal apparently was sent out. It brought more of what we came to know as drone ships, as scans indicated they had no living creatures inside, but a computer system aboard. We beat back their opposing forces with casualties and damages to our warships._

 _After coming across the drones on several occasions, we managed to get a hold of one of the enemy fighters intact and gleaned valuable intel. We learned then that these were simply drones, with no other lifeform directing their actions… Machines somewhat worse than the Cylons since they were foreign to us and had no care for their own survival. All that guided them was a single minded desire to destroy all life besides their creators – a reptilian race that had died out long ago according to the captured drone's own records. We also learned that the drones were seeded out in space across a vast distance, with some command ships that regulated them and made them expand their forces slowly across unexplored star systems – still carrying out their assigned tasks from their masters that were long since dead. We quickly left that area of space following a safe path to circumvent the drones, leading to our first course correction to another sector of space._

 _After that, we continued on for about a thousand light-years, a long distance from the colonies and moving in a zigzag away from our previous location to a point farther from the colonies overall since our journey began, in a separate direction. We did not anticipate our luck being bad enough that we could find another alien life form. How wrong we were. After some drifting through star systems on our path, finding barren rocks and some natural resources here and there, we come across our second hostile alien species. They're a parasitic race that essentially impregnate other life forms and take them over, transforming them in time to be like the rest of their race. We don't know their name, with an inability to translate their language, however we've dubbed their race Hostis-Verto, or roughly translated: Transforming Enemy. Our marines had a field day when we encountered them on the ground, initially trying to make contact and losing several men in the process, taking out the attacking aliens with mostly high heat and explosive rounds since other ammunition mostly bounced off them to little effect. If their nature to take over other species wasn't bad enough, they have their own star fleets which have a great amount of power. Their overall numbers and strength are unknown, but they stood up evenly against the Mercury class Hades when the ship was caught unawares by the enemy while scouting out nearby star systems. A lot of damage and casualties were taken before the enemy ship was destroyed. We've since left that area of space and changing directions again, moved inward to around 1500 light-years from the colonies._

 _So far we've found no enemy on our new path. Several natural resources and semi-habitable planets were mapped out along with numerous gas giants, burning rocks of planets, and other less useful places. I have hope that our luck will continue to hold, however, I'm not as optimistic as when we first started our mission that we won't run into hostile lifeforms. Gods know my fleet doesn't need to go through another ordeal again, but I fear it's almost inevitable._

 _End Log._

 **Februarius 4th, 2354**

 **Battlestar Prometheus, BSG 8 Flagship, CIC**

"Ma'am, scouts report no contacts. Raptors report several more sighting of bleak space rocks and inhabitable planets as well as small tylium deposits on asteroids. We're still waiting on Raptor 816 before we can move onto the next search grid," Commander Ambrose Rodrigues reported as the fleet Admiral arrived and settled into the CIC.

"Are they behind schedule?" Admiral Hilary Jones asked, a hint of worry in her tone as she started looking for the signs she blamed herself for missing around the time of their past encounters with other intelligent life.

"Just a few minutes sir. I'm sure it's nothing to be worried about," Commander Rodrigues said reassuringly.

"We can't afford to leave things to chance optimistically. We've learned in our previous encounters just how well that goes," Admiral Jones said stonily, her expression hardening in severity as she began preparing herself for the worst.

"Very well, sir. Mister Thompson. Sound the alert," Commander Rodrigues said, sighing heavily, turning to Prometheus' tactical officer.

"Aye sir," Lieutenant Ian Thompson replied, walking over to grab hold of the nearby comms relay and began relaying a message to the ship and likewise the fleet, "Action station, action stations. All hands go to condition one. This is not a drill. I repeat, action stations, action stations. Go to condition one. This is NOT a drill."

Alarms started blaring throughout the ship, likewise on other warships, as crew members began running towards their posts while hearing the condition one alert.

Several minutes passed during which all personnel on the warships readied for combat.

Admiral Jones tapped the plot table nervously, staring up at the dradis screens above the plot table and growing more anxious as time went on with the ship signals on dradis remaining unchanged.

"That's it, I'm calling it," Admiral Jones said angrily, as the timer running in CIC reached over thirty minutes for the Raptor team being overdue.

"It could still just be a case of them being late or losing track of time. Hell the pilots could be frakking, taking advantage of the alone time. Normal fleet operations protocol would give scouting Raptors several more hours before they'd be considered at risk and declared MIA," Commander Rodrigues said imploringly, trying to convince himself as much as the Admiral.

"Hell, I wish it could be as simple as the pilots being unprofessional and frakking," Admiral Jones said laughing lightly as some of the tension she'd been feeling was release, "unfortunately we left normal fleet operational security parameters behind a long time ago. We can't afford to take the chance and risk losing more people when we can ensure their safety now."

"Aye sir," Commander Rodrigues said sadly, sighing loudly once more as he accepted defeat, still hoping the Admiral was wrong.

"Mister Thompson, ready the Hades and Andromeda to join us with four of our Gunstars as escort to FTL jump to our lost bird's location. The rest of the fleet remains here," Admiral Jones ordered.

"Yes Ma'am," Lieutenant Thompson replied, signaling the other warships joining Prometheus in an FTL jump, and getting their own FTL ready.

Within another few minutes after the countdown reached zero for their planned FTL jump, most of BSG 8 left their location and arrived at the coordinates for missing Raptor 816.

"Dradis contact!" Lieutenant Thompson said anxiously, running through the information quickly arriving on the CIC's computers through the ship's sensors, "colonial transponder detected ma'am. Raptor 816 is present… Five other dradis contacts! Unidentified, war-book has no prior record in the database.

Four ships are 1100 meters in length, approximate to a Valkyrie class vessel ma'am, with an elongated shape that has extending formations of metal like legs on a bug. The largest ship is 1600 meters in length. It appears one ship is towing aboard Raptor 816."

"What?!" Admiral Jones exclaimed in shock.

"Sensors indicate damage on the raptor, possibly to disable the ship. The Raptor is not under its own power and small craft appear to be towing it into one of the 1100 meter alien ships ma'am," Lieutenant Thompson reported.

"Orders Admiral?" Commander Rodrigues asked in panic, looking to the Admiral for support.

Admiral Jones took a deep breath and closed her eyes, leaning into the plot table and clenching her fists tightly. After a moment she relaxed to a standing position looking back up at the dradis console above the plot table, her eyes narrowing.

"XO, I want marines loaded up on heavily armed assault Raptors within five minutes," Admiral Jones ordered, looking to across the plot table to Commander Rodrigues.

Commander Rodrigues nodded, relaxing slightly, and picked up the comms relay on his side of the plot table, delivering orders to get marines ready to go for a sortie.

"Mister Blackmer, I want a standard hostile identification challenge sent out to the alien ships. Tell them we mean no harm, but we want our pilots from the small-craft vessel they're taking aboard their ship. We will use force to reclaim our people if necessary," Admiral Jones said coldly, looking hard and steadily at the communications officer.

"—Yes, Ma'am," Lieutenant Martin Blackmer replied, going pale and trying to maintain his composure.

As marines were loaded into Raptors and launched within a few short minutes, Raptor 816 was no longer visible as it had been taken inside the 1100 meter alien's vessel and the apparent flightpod sealed shut.

The crew waited with bated breath as Lieutenant Blackmer sent the unknown ships a hostile ID challenge; _This is the Battlestar Prometheus of the colonial fleet from the Twelve colonies of Kobol to the nearby ships in the area. We mean no harm and come in peace. Identify yourselves immediately or we will have to assume your intentions are hostile and we will fire upon you. We merely want our personnel returned from the smallcraft vessel one of your ships has taken amidst ship. Please respond._

"No reply on any comms channels ma'am," Lieutenant Blackmer reported after another few minutes of silent waiting following their message being sent out to the unknown ships. Comms systems were picking up foreign chatter in another language emanating from the unknown vessels. Prometheus' V.I. system was leading the attempt to translate the garbled messages and allow translation of their own message so it could be made clear for the alien vessels…

"Incoming weapons fire!" Colonel Nicholas Rush said a moment later from his station monitoring the opposing vessels.

"Inbound missiles," Lieutenant Thompson reported as his Dradis screen lit up with inbound targets and warning tones coming from the now designated hostile alien ships.

"Launch vipers, Raptors to be escorted under heavy guard and to board the 1100 meter vessel with our people aboard," Commander Rodrigues barked, his face turning dark.

Admiral Jones nodded in agreement at Commander Rodrigues' orders, "All ships are clear to engage targets! Colonel Rush, have all main batteries fire for effect as soon as you have firing solutions!"

"Aye sir!" Colonel Rush replied excitedly, sending out orders over the wireless to the personnel manning several of the non-automated KEW batteries.

Nova class Battlestar Prometheus came about with her Mercury class escorts Hades and Andromeda following behind, the four escorting Gunstars ran alongside while preparing to engage incoming missiles targeting the Battlestars. Flak barriers began lighting up space as the colonial fleet ships began spewing out ammunition to meet the incoming dozens of missiles. The few missiles surviving the onslaught of heavily concentrated cannon fire to break through scored only minor damage on the colonial ships.

Dozens of fighters launched from each of the six 'legs' stretching outward from the alien vessels' elongated main body, apparently acting akin to the flightpods on the colonial Battlestars.

Vipers launched from the colonial fleet to meet them, with Raptors being escorted towards one of the alien vessels, ignoring the main thrust of fighter craft that met the vipers head on.

As all fighters launched from both sides, the 800 vipers were outnumbered against over 3000 fighter craft launched from the alien vessels. Heavy dogfights quickly broke out among the fighters.

"Vipers are outnumbered four to one Admiral," Commander Rodrigues reported warningly, looking at incoming dradis reports.

Admiral Jones just grit her teeth and narrowed her eyes at the dradis screen.

The medium and heavy KEWs on the colonial ships opened up on the alien vessels once in optimum range, firing for effect with high heat and explosive rounds aimed at wearing down the enemy ships.

The large alien vessel and smaller 1100 meter long vessels seemed to stagger slightly as the massive rounds from the colonial fleet struck them. Then Prometheus and her escort Battlestars seemed to vibrate as they were struck by return fire. Several missiles penetrated through their heavy Flak screens, with cannon fire also impacting amidst the Battlestars.

"Slight damage to frames three, four, seven, and eight, the armor is holding," Commander Rodrigues reported, receiving the damage reports from damage control teams around the ship.

"Sir," Lieutenant Thompson interrupted with a worried look on his face, "My computers are showing that only eight percent of our KEW rounds are impacting on the targeted ships. Only a few of the heavy shells are reaching the target, all the lighter rounds are exploding before contacting the ships' hull."

"How is that possible?" Admiral Jones asked, looking closely at the main view screen above the plot table, one showing a real time image of the enemy vessels. Looking closely, numerous explosions could be seen a short distance away from the Ovion ships' hull while a smaller number actually impacted on the ships.

"Sir I think they have some type of force field, energy shields, around their ships," Lieutenant Thompson said in disbelief as he studied the data his computers were bringing in from the ship's sensors.

"Like the drones, and even Hostis-Verto. Figures. Couldn't find another race without seeing advancements that almost make the efforts by the colonies look primitive," Commander Rodrigues said in disgust, snarling angrily.

Admiral Jones raised an eyebrow looking at Commander Rodrigues, and then turned back to the view screen showing the enemy ships.

"Unfortunately it's quite possible," Admiral Jones said thoughtfully, thinking of some of her studies at Picon Academy, "Takes a tremendous amount of energy to generate an energy screen as a force field around capital class ships and the cost to create and maintain such technology is truly great. So much that the Colonies stopped looking into researching that technology years ago."

Admiral Jones grabbed hold of the CIC operations table as the Prometheus shook from another weapons launch impact. Admiral Jones saw flashing red lights across the damage control console from the corner of her eye, indicating ship damage.

"Damage control teams reporting damage to frames twelve through twenty-six," the damage control officer reported, ordering over the wireless for officers to seal off those areas until the damage control teams could inspect and begin repairs to those sections of the ship.

"Admiral, they hit us with energy beams, blue pulses of lasers that burned through sections of our armor on impact!" Colonel Rush reported in distress.

Admiral Jones took stock of their situation, coldly assessing tactical maneuvers available – considering leaving the marines and Raptor pilots behind on the alien vessel before dismissing the idea.

"So they make up for their small size with their superior defenses and weaponry…," Admiral Jones muttered to herself quietly, considering her options as she stared at the view screens above the plot table.

"Colonel Rush I want all batteries to concentrate on one fixed point on the ship. Hammer away at the enemy's defenses until we break through!" Admiral Jones snapped, looking at Rush sharply, expecting to be obeyed in seconds.

"Aye ma'am," Colonel Rush said eagerly, running his fingers along his control consoles to initiate changes to orders for the weapons covering the ship and sending out orders for the rest of the fleet to follow suit on the other enemy vessels.

Prometheus' heavy KEWs opened up, unleashing a hail storm of cannon fire, firing on the largest enemy vessel. KEW rounds impacted, going through the energy screen that continued to hold but weakened enough to let a large percentage of the weapons fire to bleed through and damage the ship's hull. Prometheus opened fired again and again, relentlessly firing on the same spot repeatedly, collapsing the energy field protecting the enemy ship until it disappeared entirely and Prometheus' high intensity rounds began burrowing into the alien ship.

Hades and Andromeda followed suit, focusing fire on two of the smaller vessels until they could burrow their weapons fire directly against the enemy ships.

Several blue pulses erupted from the opposing vessels with more missiles and cannon fire, impacting along the colonial Battlestars. A number of KEW cannons were destroyed or damaged with several sections of armor buckling under the strain of the enemy's powerful weapons fire; fires and decompressions ran inside several frames of each of the Battlestars.

The 1600 meter long alien vessel was destroyed as explosions roiled throughout the ship, massive concentrations of KEW fire burrowing deep inside the ship unimpeded by the collapsed energy screen and facing little challenge against the armor not built to withstand high concentrations of explosive rounds without the shields protecting the ship. The ship's engines detonated leading to the ship finally being destroyed after sustaining heavy damage amidst the ship.

The two 1100 meter long alien vessels Andromeda and Hades had concentrated on likewise fell under the brunt of concentrated KEW fire after the energy screens collapsed. Taking another couple minutes with less munitions being ejected to pummel the enemy ships compared to the capabilities of the larger Titan class Prometheus.

Though cheers broke out among the crews on the colonial ships, there was quickly little room to celebrate. Gunstar Mystic fell under the blue pulses of laser fire from one of the other 1100 meter long alien ship, with repeated fire burning through the Gunstar's hull. Unable to take such punishment, the ship was destroyed as flames engulfed the hull; burning away the metal constructions throughout and along the ship and leaving all those inside a quick death in a flash explosion.

Forty nuclear missiles were launched from the alien vessels towards the colonials, apparently hoping to quickly eliminate their opposition and get revenge for their fallen comrades.

"Mass of nuclear missiles launching towards Andromeda ma'am!" Lieutenant Thompson reported in panic.

"They can't hold off that many missiles, too many would get through point defense and the armor couldn't hold out against the ones that broke through…" Admiral Jones said, trailing off helplessly as she watched the sure death waiting one of her escort ships, powerless to stop it within the minute it'd take for the ship to be hit.

"Raven is moving to intercept!" Commander Rodrigues interjected loudly in surprise.

Gunstar Raven moved directly in front of her charge she was supposed to defend, adding her defensive fire to Andromeda's and quickly taking out many of the incoming nukes. Seconds later massive nuclear detonations were registered before Prometheus' sensors were temporarily shorted out by the combined blast wave putting out massive communication and sensor interference, subsequent EMP's shorting out any unshielded or damaged equipment in the area.

Admiral Jones waited worriedly as she continued looking at the dradis and view screens above the plot table, waiting for them to reset after the interference ended. Contacts began registering one by one once again on the view screens and dradis consoles as the ship's systems reset following the interference on sensors ending.

"Status?" Admiral Jones barked impatiently, feeling cold as worry racked her features, goosebumps running along her arms.

"Andromeda is alright! Raven did it!" Commander Rodrigues reported jubilantly, leading several crew members to cheer at the news. A full picture on dradis and the real time view screens showed the full extent of what happened seconds later.

"No… Raven ma'am. The Raven's gone," Lieutenant Thompson reported bleakly, eyes wide in shock.

Admiral Jones blinked away tears as the extent of the news hit her troubled mind. She shook of the emotions racking her mind, focusing on what needed to be done and not wanting her crew to see her fall to pieces while they still needed her to lead in combat that was restarting outside Prometheus.

"All batteries return fire on the alien vessel not containing our people! I want our people off the other ship right frakking now so we can end this!" Admiral Jones said viciously, focusing on the rage she felt to overshadow her other feelings, "get those frakking contacts the hell off my dradis!"

"Aye sir," Colonel Rush replied gladly, offering no opposing argument.

Lieutenant Blackmer sent out the general recall order to their teams of marines on the second of the remaining alien vessels, informing them to hurry the frak up.

Prometheus' heavy bow KEWs opened fire seconds before ten heavy missiles erupted from the bow missile tubes, launching towards the 1100 meter long alien vessel not containing colonial forces. On Prometheus' view screens, explosions started running across the main body of the alien ship as the heavy KEW rounds slammed through their force field, concentrating on point to collapse the energy screens. Then the missiles struck and the alien ship vanished under brilliant flashes of light, reappearing moments later showing massive damage and huge gaping wounds burrowing into the ship with fires seen across the jagged rents in the hull. Then other KEW rounds and missiles from the other two Battlestars began to arrive. Every round began to strike the alien ship, until the ship gave way under the heavy concentration of munitions and detonated in a fiery plume as the ship's reactors went critical.

Raptors quickly maneuvered out of the remaining alien ship, with vipers resuming protective picket lines to safeguard them on their journey back to Prometheus. Once the small craft were safely away from the alien ship, a nuke planted by the marines detonated inside the alien ship, leading to the ship's destruction that blew fiery debris in all directions.

"Enemy ship destroyed ma'am. Raptors are landing on the portside flightpod now," Lieutenant Thompson reported.

"Nuclear ordinance wasn't authorized," Admiral Jones said questioningly as she turned to Commander Rodrigues.

Commander Rodrigues merely shrugged and raised his eyebrows as if to question the Admiral silently, _so what?_.

Admiral Jones chose to let it go, willing to accept the unexpected loss of the remaining alien vessel, and turned back to looking at the view screens and dradis above the plot table.

"Send the general recall order to our fighters. Have our main batteries begin firing on the remaining fighters once ours are clear. No need to risk anymore casualties if they're not necessary," Admiral Jones ordered.

"Yes ma'am," Lieutenant Blackmer replied dutifully, sending out the Admiral's orders to have the fleet's fighters disengage and return to their ships.

Vipers broke off from the dogfights they'd been engaging in or about to start and started heading back to their ships in the colonial fleet. Cannon fire launched from the Battlestars as their fighters got out of the way, battering through the remaining alien fighter craft. The alien craft quickly backed off and tried fleeing on sublight speed, pursued by the Battlestars that continued firing among their ranks, shredding several of the small craft in short order.

Once the fleet's vipers were back aboard, Admiral Jones ordered the fleet to jump out of the area. Though in the back of her mind there was the thought that she'd likely regret this, she wanted her fleet to get out of the area and wasn't willing to commit to an all-out slaughter when they didn't need to – showing mercy to the enemy fighters outside.

BSG 8 jumped back to where the rest of their fleet had been left behind. Admiral Jones left for her quarters and leaving watch duty to maintain the fleet to Commander Rodrigues. In time the marines would give the Admiral a report on what they learned on their mission, though Jones wanted to give them some time to breath and recuperate along with the rest of the crew.

 **Several Hours Later**

 **Admiral's Quarters**

Admiral Jones sat across from marine staff Sergeant Jarvis Gale and Commander Rodrigues, leaning back in her chair with a bottle of ambrosia in her hand.

"They did what?!" Admiral Jones said in outrage, gripping her bottle tightly and narrowing her eyes in rage.

"My marines and I found where they'd taken our Raptor pilots. The insect-like aliens were just finishing off the second pilot when we arrived. They ate them ma'am," Sergeant Jarvis Gale reported in disgust, fighting back bile in his throat at the thought.

 _Perhaps I should listen to my half-hearted thoughts more often_ , Admiral Jones thought to herself, considering how she had just had a feeling that they'd run into trouble and how she'd regret letting the alien fighters go out of mercy. She wanted to make them bleed and suffer after hearing what the aliens had done to her people, easily imagining the horror awaiting the pilots and picturing what happened to them in gruesome detail.

Sergeant Gale looked on as the Admiral sat in silence, her face changing from disgust to rage and back and forth as if she couldn't decide between the two.

"My team also gathered intel from one of the computer consoles we found on our way inside their ship. It took hours for the translations to come through on Prometheus' computers, but I'd say we recovered valuable information," Sergeant Gale said.

"I agree Admiral. I found it most illuminating when I read the brief summary of what we recovered on the way here to meet with you," Commander Rodrigues said.

Admiral Jones was distracted from her thoughts at that and became interested in the rest of the report, trying to put the other news out of her mind.

"We learned that the alien species are called Ovions. They inhabit a pretty large area of space with a number of colonies outside their home world Carillon that contains vast amounts of tylium that allowed the technology advancements we saw on their warships earlier today – bypassing the limits such technology requires since they don't need to be conservative. They don't really even have political issues weighing down their advancements, unlike the colonies if the logs we acquired on the Ovions are correct. Most importantly though, we believe the Ovions only began attacking us once they confirmed who we were following our attempts to communicate with them, letting them know we were from the colonies," Sergeant Gale said.

"What?" Admiral Jones said in confusion, not understanding what Sergeant Gale was alluding to.

"They already knew about the colonies Admiral," Commander Rodrigues said grimacing slightly at that.

"How is that possible?" Admiral Jones asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"That's the interesting bit which was quite illuminating from the report. They know because they came across another colonial warship in the past. Around their sector of space," Commander Rodrigues said, looking at Admiral Jones meaningfully.

"Out here? That's…" Admiral Jones said trailing off, considering the implications.

"Yes Ma'am. Illogical, crazy, and just damned odd, all words I'd used to describe this. However, we have a duty to look into saving our own and not leave them to the fate the Ovions would have forced upon them if they got their hands on the humans aboard that colonial warship. We have some indications on where they were previously, and we should be able to get to them while avoiding the Ovions with knowledge of some of their fleet deployments," Commander Rodrigues said.

"I agree that we can't let the Ovions get ahold of other people from the colonies if we can do anything to stop them. Very well, we'll start sending out Raptors on a search pattern once we get the fleet within range of where they were heading based on encounters with the Ovions," Admiral Jones said.

"Of course it's also worth noting the implications of our latest discovery ma'am. The Ovions have now had two encounters with people from the colonies and apparently learned we can be a delicacy for them. Any peace agreement between them and the colonies couldn't possibly hold out. And based on some details recovered from their ship's logs, we know their tylium supplies are beginning to thin out given their massive use for their fleet," Sergeant Gale said.

"Eventually they'll head to the colonies on their path for looking for large sources of tylium," Commander Rodrigues added, finishing Sergeant Gale's thought.

Admiral Jones paled at hearing that and groaned aloud, "So we went out looking a safe place away from the Cylons in case we needed it and just found another enemy eager to kill everyone in the colonies. Great."

"Aye. Not quite what we hoped for, but I'm sure Admiral Corman will see the significance of our discovery as not entirely detrimental. The Ovions would be a problem sometime in the future because of their need for fuel, whether we knew about them or not. If anything, maybe the Admiralty could use this knowledge to get the government to start preparing for war and to defend the colonies. There may be naysayers doubting the threat of the Cylons since we haven't seen or heard from them for so long, but news of these Ovions and the very real threat they pose…" Commander Rodrigues said hopefully, trailing off.

"Could get the colonies to start mobilizing and reverse the decisions in weakening our security and the power of our armed forces. Though that's assuming the government doesn't scape goat us and claim we started a possible conflict with the Ovions," Admiral Jones said, gritting her teeth.

"Surely they couldn't do that ma'am?" Sergeant Gale said in shock and disbelief.

"I wouldn't put it past the politicians based on their position in disarming the colonies over the years," Commander Rodrigues said, feeling disgust at the thought.

The three colonial fleet personnel remained silent for a moment as they considered the idea.

"Well an equally morose topic is the state of the fleet. Andromeda has moderate damage to many sections across the ship, and all three Battlestars have a fair number of weapons platforms lost or damaged from our battle. Not to mention the casualties taken.

Sadly, we were kind of lucky that we could break through their shields with concentrated KEW fire; otherwise things would've ended a lot worse. Overall their ships' technology really took a toll on us, and realistically unless the colonies advance a lot we'd be looking at a blood bath in a war with the Ovions," Commander Rodrigues said.

"Hades had already had practice against similar technology among the Hostis-Verto, and the rest of the fleet on a smaller scale against the drones. Still, you're right that we can't rely on KEW fire concentrations to turn the tide against their technology. You can bet they'll be making more advancements and quite possibly make it so such a thing can't happen again so easily in the future," Admiral Jones said, frowning slightly.

"Yes ma'am," Commander Rodrigues said, nodding in agreement.

"And our casualties?" Admiral Jones asked, dreading the answer.

"Approximately 300 vipers, and several hundred among the Battlestars. Plus 1500 personnel from the lost Gunstars," Commander Rodrigues said sadly.

Admiral Jones felt anguish at their losses, a tear streaming down he face from her left eye.

"We'll need to train replacement pilots and get more vipers available from storage," Admiral Jones said, hollowly.

"Aye, sir. It'll be done. I'll see to our Battlestars cycling through the shipyard to get back up to par for combat, as quickly as possible," Commander Rodrigues said.

"Good. I don't like the idea of being vulnerable in case we do run into the Ovions again," Admiral Jones said.

After some adjustments among the fleet with cycling among the shipyards drydocks and getting a training program to begin replacing their losses over the next few days, BSG 8 began moving out again in search of the newly discovered colonial warship full of comrades from the colonies that needed their help…

 _Note: The Ovions are mentioned in the original series of Galactica, and a real threat against the colonies. I tweaked the details a bit. Realistically, the new series was slightly less credible than the original series given how many hundreds to thousands of lightyears the colonials travelled among the stars to escape the Cylons. The Hostis-Verto are based loosely on the parasitic Somnians from the original series, though after consideration I didn't much like the details for the Somnians so I tweaked and changed things to get a more realistic or better addition to the story. Then there's the drones: an interesting idea of machines relatively worse than the Cylons since they weren't made by humans and unlike Cylons they're fully machines, unfeeling and uncaring, without a race like humans to make that change... Ironic, but they and their masters are based loosely on the original series Cylons, which had the Cylons as a reptilian race that designed the robotic versions that outlived their flesh and blood counterparts._

 _Undoubtedly some might worry about the mention of other intelligent life, turning away from the main storyline. I assure you the Cylons are the main focus of this story. The nu-bsg idea that no life besides humans existed however will not be perpetrated, as is demonstrated with the use of the ovions. I am open to the idea of sequel stories in the future around the other intelligent life forms brought up, which I hope saying now isn't a bad thing and other people might actually like the idea._

 _Review, leave ideas for the story please, suggestions…_


	7. 1x04 P2 Lost Haven Reclaimed

**Aprilius 9** **th** **, 2354**

 **Deep Space**

 **Battlestar Prometheus**

"I see it. I still can't believe it," Admiral Jones said, eyes wide in shock as she looked at the enormous ship filling up the view screens above the CIC plot table.

"We knew they'd be around here from the Ovions' records and it just took some poking around before our Raptors pinpointed their exact location to where they were hiding from a search pattern. Still, the size of Haven is indeed awe inspiring, sir," Commander Rodrigues said, nodding in agreement with the look of amazement Admiral Jones still wore.

Before Battlestar Prometheus and the rest of BSG 8 stood the battered and damaged colonial Heavy Warstar Haven, the first and last of her kind.

The largest ship ever constructed in the colonies at 4000 meters in length.

Built on the same design as a Battlestar with a crouching alligator formed elongated head of the ship, and two twin flight-pods on either side of the ship, Haven was a larger size with appropriate increased weaponry across the hull and more spacious inside…

Burn marks and missing hull plating was apparent across the vast surface of the ship. Several weapons emplacements were missing or bent sideways and thus rendered inoperable.

"She was intended to serve as the main command ship for the entire fleet, while Atlantia would have served only as a supporting command ship. Though, I imagine if Admiral Corman had it his way, Haven would've been kept secret and used as part of the reserve fleet among Operation Ragnarok. A rather large surprise to any enemy of the colonies if necessary," Admiral Jones said, nodding in approval.

"Kind of doubt that Haven could've been kept a secret given her size, sir," Commander Rodrigues said laughing lightly, "Still, she would've been an incredible boon given her strength and may yet still be if we can get her returned to the colonies and completed to full strength."

"Indeed," Admiral Jones said with a nod, continuing to gaze at the massive warship highlighted on the view screen above, "After her disappearance, she became the largest and most expensive failure in colonial history. Fleet Command was blamed, of course, because they insisted that the ship be built. Last I heard before we left, they used Haven's loss to further efforts to swiftly downsize the fleet."

"Mother frakkers…," Commander Rodrigues said, shaking his head. Suddenly, he grinned, bemused, "Well they won't be able to justify downsizing anymore, not once word reaches the colonies of alien threats out here."

"Yes…" Admiral Jones said thoughtfully, giving the massive warship one last once-over before turning away.

"Anyway, let's get setup to meet aboard Haven with the command staff and get underway ASAP. We're still technically in enemy space and if we found Haven, so can the Ovions. We'll need to get moving and quickly," Admiral Jones said, narrowing her eyes and clenching her fists in anticipation.

"Aye sir. Though does that mean we're done with our mission? We just head back home?" Commander Rodrigues asked, grinning at Admiral Jones.

Though he felt disappointed at not getting to explore further, the rather large reminder of home sitting outside Prometheus strengthened the feelings of homesickness and longing to return to the colonies which had been eating away at him during their long journey.

"I think Admiral Corman himself would agree that what we've found is important enough to end our mission ahead of schedule. The likelihood of other enemies to the colonies and the importance in returning a strategic asset like Haven are simply far more important," Admiral Jones said solemnly.

 **30 minutes later**

 **Heavy Warstar Haven**

Admiral Jones and Commander Rodrigues disembarked from their raptor, quickly dismissing the deck crew standing at attention on the hanger deck.

Dozens of additional DC teams left other raptors arriving on Haven and began moving out to aid the DC teams working throughout the massive warship to repair the damage present.

Walking through the numerous sections of the massive warship, Admiral Jones and Commander Rodrigues grimaced as they saw the sight of the conditions of the ship firsthand.

Entire sections had blinking lights along entire corridors, sheets of metal mangled and twisted as they were bent inward from damage outside the ship…

Admiral Jones and Commander Rodrigues continued on their way to reach the ship's commanding officer. Occasionally, they sent out orders to DC teams on changes of where to concentrate to repair the ship.

 **Haven, Commander's Quarters**

Admiral Jones did a double-take as she took in the imposing figure before her. Six-foot seven, with spiked black hair and piercing black eyes, the figure was a large man with a bulging muscular frame. She relaxed as he went to sit down as she and Commander Rodrigues entered the commanding officer's quarters.

"You are the commanding officer, then?" Admiral Jones asked, raising an eyebrow as she appraised the colonial officer before her. He made no move to salute or otherwise follow protocol, relaxing as he reclined in his chair across from the Admiral and her subordinate.

"Suppose I am…" Major David Magnus mused, chuckling darkly, his wide grinning face turned sour as he remembered, sadness tinging his voice, "I'm afraid Commander Cifer and Colonel Skylar were lost among many of the crew in the time since Haven's been active. I was the next in line for command… Sir."

"Well, you've lasted this long and from the records the Ovions kept of your encounters with them, you did quite well. I'm field promoting you to Commander as of this moment, Commander Magnus," Admiral Jones said firmly.

"Sir!" Commander Magnus said, a little more volume in his deep and husky voice, his eyes widening briefly. He saluted the Admiral in respect, slightly surprised but taking his promotion in stride.

"Now, DC teams from the fleet are streaming in, so the repairs your ship obviously needs as seen from the outside will begin immediately. We need to leave shortly as I'm sure you can understand and agree with. If Haven's FTLs can't be made operational quickly, then our deck crews have orders to dock Andromeda and Hades, and make it possible to tow Haven along in FTL jumps.

I would like to hear your story of what happened in the meantime and a rundown of what Haven needs to get operational in short order, as soon as possible," Admiral Jones said sternly.

"Yes sir," Commander Magnus said, sighing loudly as he began remembering the sad events that had led Haven to getting here and explained to the Admiral what happened.

 **38 months ago - Februarius 8th, 2351**

 **Confederation Station, in space three hours sublight travel to Picon**

 **Heavy Warstar Haven CIC**

Commander Marcel Cifer stood in the center of the large CIC, checking on the various sections of the ship to prepare for a jump.

"Good to see we're finally getting out of dock even if it's just for this test. Took them long enough to get the ship up and ready," Commander Marcel Cifer said excitedly.

"Aye, sir. Though we're still relatively lightly armed with about half our weapons not yet functional," Colonel Llora Skylar said, rolling her eyes.

"Pfft. You'd think with all the cubits pushed into getting Haven up and running the weapons would've been prioritized so they were all online," Commander Cifer scoffed, "Still, even if we had to face combat, we've got enough teeth as is to rip apart pretty much any conceivable enemy."

"The firepower of around three mercury class Battlestars combined. Stronger than any other Warstar ever created, and meant to literally take on a war by herself. Yes, even with a fraction of her weapons, she's too deadly and stubborn to be in trouble in combat no matter her situation sir," Colonel Skylar said in agreement, smiling slightly, though she still wished Haven could be at 100% on her maiden voyage.

"Well if nothing else we'll get to see Haven jump farther than any other ship in the fleet could dream of. Given her eight large and powerful engines, along with the Olympus class FTL, giving the ship a jump range of around 100 light years. Should provide an interesting test to see today," Commander Cifer said, nodding slightly.

"Indeed sir," Colonel Skylar said.

"Let's get a message out to that civilian engineer to finish up her work on the ship's FTL systems so we can get going. I'm starting to get antsy about waiting and I'm excited to see our beloved ship in action," Commander Cifer said, eyes sparkling in excitement and in anticipation.

"Aye, sir. I'll make sure she hurries up and gets off our frakking ship post haste. No need to take her with us for the test after all. You know how much I detest the civilian contractors from Intrinsic Espada Engineering," Colonel Skylar said, grinning. Her eyes flared briefly with anger, thinking of the civilian contractors.

Waste of space, and unnecessary, people aboard taking credit for the arduous work her crew and the overall efforts the colonial fleet had put in. All for civilian contractors to swoop in at the end and get all the glory. There'd be hell to pay if they made mistakes that led to her ship so much as messing up its paint job because of them… Colonel Skylar shook her head clearing her thoughts to focus as Haven's crew members called out each section of the ship one at a time were ready to go.

"Thank you, Colonel. Knew I could count on you to feel the same," Commander Cifer said, closing his eyes and sighing with satisfaction at soon getting his wish.

 **10 minutes later**

A tall woman with flowing blonde hair in an orange jumpsuit, a typical fleet engineer's outfit, walked aboard a raptor, the ramp walkway closing up behind her as she was the last to board. She grinned looking around the ship one last time, catching the eye of a large pilot watching nearby.

She cheekily waved at him, her grin becoming flirtatious. Her full face came into view as the raptor's hatch closed, a person matching D'Anna's appearance…

The hatch closed over the raptor, sealing shut, the pilots aboard engaging final checks before lift off from the ship was engaged.

"Let the Colonel know that pesky blonde civilian engineer she hates so much is now away from the ship," Major David Magnus said dryly, a note of boredom in his voice and his eyes drooping slightly, as he spoke into his earpiece connected wirelessly to the ship's CIC. He watched as the raptor carrying the civilian engineer, and her assistants, lifted off and began heading away from Haven.

"Aye, sir," the communications officer replied, then relayed the CAGs message to the Colonel and Commander in CIC.

"Good," Colonel Skylar said, grinning mischievously and turning to her CO in expectation.

"Great to hear. Now let's get going!" Commander Cifer said excitedly, raising his voice to ensure the crew heard him and knew he was talking to them.

"Yes sir!" several crew members replied quickly.

Haven began moving farther away from the shipyard docks that had been her home for so long, while the crew finished preparations to jump the ship.

"FTL jump in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Jumping!" Lieutenant Anabel Drake said happily, raising her arms and jumping up and down slightly in excitement.

Commander Cifer glanced at the jubilant operations officer in bemusement before looking ahead as the ship FTL jumped, and quickly arrived at its destination.

Haven jumped away from the colonies on her intended single one hundred light-year jump as a test for the ship's new, state of the art, systems. Everything went ahead like clockwork. A bright flash surrounded the massive ship and they were displaced, arriving at their new coordinates as planned. Then it all went wrong…

"We've arrived out of our FTL jump sir," Lieutenant Drake reported smiling widely, but her smile turned down into an uncharacteristic frown moments later as she gave the FTL computer her full attention, noticing something odd.

Commander Cifer was grinning in excitement and ready to begin looking around at the historic jump point for his ship's first of many amazing accomplishments. He was shaking Colonel Skylar's hand, exchanging congratulations as he noticed the operations officer hunched over one of the control consoles.

He turned serious as he noticed the operations officer's sudden change in attitude. Rarely was the Lieutenant not smiling or excited. It was just in her nature, an integral part of her personality, always appearing bright and bubbly. Commander Cifer moved closer to the Lieutenant knowing something was wrong, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Report, Lieutenant," Commander Cifer said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Sir… I don't know what's causing this, but the FTL computer immediately started plotting another jump and spun up the FTL drives for a second jump sir," Lieutenant Drake said, frowning in confusion and consternation.

"What do you mean Lieutenant? We're not scheduled for a jump until after surveying the area. Could it be a malfunction?" Commander Cifer asked angrily, not liking his brand new ship becoming full of bugs in her systems right off the bat.

"Sir, like I said I don't quite understand what's going on," Lieutenant Drake said, scratching her head and narrowing her eyes at the FTL computer in annoyance, "It seems though that the FTL is carrying out commands inputted to jump the ship again in short order. It's already set to go within 30 more seconds, sir."

"Can you stop it and fix it, Anna?" Commander Cifer asked.

"No sir. I'll have to get into the system after the jump. It's just programmed to jump too soon after our first jump to do much of anything before…" Lieutenant Drake said trailing off as the ship jumped while she was midsentence explaining the situation, "That."

"Hmmm," Commander Cifer said, frowning in annoyance.

"Getting right on it, now, sir!" Lieutenant Drake said, mock saluting the Commander and smiling again as she started going through the FTL systems, fingers running across the keyboard at breakneck speed.

A few moments later Lieutenant Drake began opening up the FTL computers and narrowed her eyes at the machine as it disobeyed her, not giving what she wanted right away.

As the Lieutenant worked, the ship jumped again after a few minutes. The ship was following preset commands in its computers to jump long distances in regular intervals at the shortest time possible for the ship to keep up with.

Most of the crew was used to the nauseating sensation, the feeling of dizziness, which accompanied an FTL jump. None had experienced so many jumps in quick succession. Much of the CIC crew put a hand to their heads, steadying themselves. One technician couldn't hold it in any longer, moving his head to the side away from his computer console and threw up. The rancid odor caused another technician across from him to follow suit…

"Get it fixed now, Lieutenant! I'd like to not break our ship right away or get lost somewhere if we continue jumping!" Colonel Skylar said sternly.

"On it, sir! However, the coding on the FTL computers is extensive. It's blocking all attempts to stop the systems from engaging in an FTL jump. I can't understand it, but it's almost like someone intentionally programmed these commands to go off when we jumped away, and it's nowhere near done.

If I can't stop it, we'll keep blindly jumping long distances and eventually face trouble with the ships systems or we could run into some celestial body like a sun," Lieutenant Drake said, turning to her superiors with a look of fear on her face…

 **30 minutes later**

Haven appeared once more out of FTL. Her systems shorted out and several consoles and machinery detonated in small explosions from overloading, creating sparks that caused several fires. Several crewmembers were strewn about the ship, many with small injuries and more than one on their knees puking their guts out after so many FTL jumps in a short time.

"Sorry sir, I couldn't get it in time. The programming's just so complex. However, we can do a complete reboot now that the systems are down, and purge the programming entirely," Lieutenant Drake said.

"Do it. And someone find out where the frack we are, now!" Colonel Skylar ordered heatedly, flustered as she kneaded her head with her hand to fight back her own nausea.

 **Present day**

"We'd jumped out over a thousand light years away from the colonies. Thankfully no permanent damage was sustained and casualties were minimal, but we had lost our way home… Without any recognizable markers on our star charts, we were completely lost. Unable to return to the colonies even when the FTL got fixed," Commander Magnus said, chuckling darkly.

"Guess that explains why you couldn't try and get back right away and avoid the Ovions altogether," Commander Rodrigues said, nodding in understanding.

"Did you find out the cause of what happened?" Admiral Jones asked, looking at Commander Magnus intensely.

"At the time no, but we later figured out the programming had been inputted when the civilian engineer had been aboard. It was considered the most logical explanation given how convenient it was that she had left the ship right before Haven jumped and started the inputted commands placed in her systems.

Quite possibly Haven was intended to be lost or destroyed, for reasons unknown. That soon became the least of our worries not long after we arrived. When the Ovions found us," Commander Magnus said, his expression dark, teeth gritted, as he remembered.

 **6 Months After Haven Left The Colonies - August 16** **th** **, 2351**

"Six unknown contacts on dradis sir!" Lieutenant Drake reported excitedly, jumping up and down at the prospect of something new finally happening after the ship had been drifting aimlessly through space since they'd arrived so far from the colonies. With no way back, as they were without any familiar interstellar markers to pinpoint a roadmap home.

"Open a channel to them, standard hostile ID challenge. Though, be a little formal since we're likely not coming across someone from the colonies at this distance from home," Commander Cifer said, looking meaningfully at the communications officer.

"Aye sir," the communications officer replied, then began speaking over the wireless, with the headset speaker she wore over her head, to the unknown vessels, "Attention unknown vessels. This is the Heavy Warstar Haven of the Colonial Fleet from the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, of a race known as human beings. We are on a somewhat unintended exploration mission. We come in peace and mean you no harm. However, if we are met with hostile action, we will use deadly force and return fire in due course."

Commander Cifer nodded in approval at the communications officer's wording, waiting the next few minutes in anxious silence before a response came in.

"Sir, I'm getting a response. A verbal one which sounds like clicking, perhaps their form of talking, and a typed message. It's not in colonial standard so we can't understand it, but the ship's computers are working at translating it," the communications officer said.

"Not like we've had a lot of practice with alien languages. Let's see if anything useful comes out of the computers," Colonel Skylar said skeptically, quirking an eyebrow.

A few minutes later the computers finished a rudimentary translation. Though with time and further exposure to the foreign language, the translation software would get better and faster. The ship's onboard V.I. (Virtual Intelligence) system, helped run through the translation software at a faster pace to get the first translation out as fast as possible. Few ships in the colonial fleet had such technology, and without which foreign language translation might've proved impossible.

"Sir, I've got the response, as best as our translation could make of it for now. Message reads: _Welcome to the people of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. We belong to the defense forces of Carillon, of a race known as Ovions. Our people have met other races before and found them to be hostile. If your words of coming in peace prove to be false then know we are prepared, and it will not end well for you. Until your trespass upon our area of space proves to be of hostile intent, we will not fire upon you. To begin dialogs between our peoples, a meeting of a small group of ambassadors among either of our ships would be advised, if you find it agreeable_ ," the communications officer said.

Commander Cifer and Colonel Skylar looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

"Tell them we accept their offer and are sending a single transport over. Have a raptor prepped and sent over. Lieutenant Trenton has some experience in diplomatic matters if I remember correctly and can be escorted by a few marines to the Ovions' command ship," Commander Cifer said.

"Better to see their ship and get Intel on the Ovions than to let them do so?" Colonel Skylar said mischievously, grinning slightly.

"Yes. Though we'll be putting our people more at risk, hopefully the benefits outweigh the risk. We can't even send out an escort with the raptor since we need to keep this as peaceful as possible. They'll be sitting ducks if this goes south," Commander Cifer said quietly.

"Yes, sir. The Ovions sent recognition of our intent and are allowing us to proceed," the communications officer said.

Over the next few minutes the marines and Lieutenant Trenton boarded a raptor and then made their way over to the Ovions' larger ship. A few more minutes passed with Haven's crew anxiously waiting as the raptor crew made contact with the Ovions after boarding their ship.

A report from Lieutenant Trenton showed that initial contact went about as well as expected, with the use of translation software in devices that could be latched to the colonials' head that the Ovions had in order to ensure both sides understood each other. Contact was made peacefully, and everything seemed to be going alright. Not long after is when it all went wrong…

"Sir, we received a transmission from Lieutenant Trenton's team, whatever was said was overrun by the sound of gunfire," the communications officer said.

"They're shooting at the Ovions?" Colonel Skylar said incredulously.

"Do we know any more about what happened?" Commander Cifer asked.

"No sir," the communications officer replied, looking closely at the instruments before her, "Lieutenant Trenton's transmission cut out: we've lost all contact."

"A misunderstanding?" Colonel Skylar wondered aloud dubiously, looking at Commander Cifer.

"Doesn't matter at this point if what I think is about to happen..." Commander Cifer said trailing off.

"Ovion ships are turning towards us and appear to be powering up weapons sir!" Lieutenant Drake exclaimed in alarm.

Colonel Skylar turned to Commander Cifer, silently awaiting his response.

Commander Cifer stood silently looking at the view screens above the plot table while the Ovions moved closer to Haven. With a heavy heart Commander Cifer said words he truly didn't wish to have to say, "Action stations. Set condition one. Gunnery crews are to take aim and be prepared to return fire if the Ovions fire on us."

"Aye sir," Lieutenant Drake replied, sending the message to go to condition one throughout the ship while the communications officer relayed the Commander's orders to the gunnery crews.

"This'll spiral out of control fast, sir. Could be the beginning of a war," Colonel Skylar said cautiously, looking to her commander.

"Probably. It's out of our hands now. We will defend ourselves as is our right if they attack us. I don't know what happened on their ship and frankly, I don't care right now. If they attack, they'll be the ones escalating the situation. No matter what reasoning they might have for doing so," Commander Cifer said angrily, gripping the plot table tightly.

"Very well, Commander," Colonel Skylar said, then turned and began relaying orders to the crew to prepare for battle now that it seemed all but inevitable.

Heavy Warstar Haven came fully online as the crew aboard moved and readied themselves as well as the ship for combat, with the ship's weapons beginning to pick out targets. The Ovion ships closed to point blank range around Haven, while powering up their own weapons.

"Sir, the ship's sensors are detecting something odd about the Ovion ships. I think… They could have energy shields, sir!" Lieutenant Drake said in shock, absorbed in the data she was receiving at her station.

Commander Cifer and Colonel Skylar shared a grim look, neither liking the implications of the information they were receiving being accurate.

Colonel Skylar looked back at the view screen showing the image of an Ovion ship and had a sharp intake of breath, before exclaiming, "They're firing!"

Blue pulses of light were visible on Haven's view screens as the Ovions fired on the colonial warship. Haven's heavy armor held up against the onslaught of raw power as the blue pulses impacted across the ship's hull, with a layer of armor being burned through and several weapons platforms in the line of fire detonating in secondary explosions.

The crew held onto their stations or got knocked around as Haven shook from the impact.

"Sit-rep!" Commander Cifer ordered, grimacing angrily as he kept a firm grip on the plot table.

"KEW cannons 18 through 23 were quite literally incinerated in the blast, sir. The armor held where the weapons fire from all the Ovion ships impacted, but DC (damage control) teams are reporting markers of stress on the superstructure from the impact and layers of armor being melted through. Concentrated fire on a single point wouldn't take long to toll heavy damage," Colonal Skylar reported, quickly going through reports coming into CIC.

"Those were high intensity energy beams, akin to lasers, sir!" Lieutenant Drake reported, her eyes going wide and reading through information coming to her station eagerly.

"No fighters in the air yet, sir. Just us and the capital class ships. Should we launch vipers?" Colonel Skylar asked anxiously.

"They're gauging our strength, or they'd have launched fighters before now. No, we'll match them and gauge their strength in return. If we need to, we can retreat without fighters needing to return to the ship first," Commander Cifer said determinedly.

"It's a pain that so many of our weapons aren't online to bring our full strength to bear," Colonel Skylar said dully, narrowing her eyes at the view screens showing the Ovions.

Commander Cifer chuckled quietly. He glared at the view screens showing the Ovion warships coming about, spread out in front of Haven in a staggered formation. They slowly began maneuvering to put themselves in a position to encircle Haven and fire at her from all sides.

"All weapons are to commence firing on the Ovions," Commander Cifer ordered.

"Aye sir," Colonel Skylar said, relaying orders sternly to crew members around the ship.

Haven's Heavy KEWs began pumping out rounds towards the Ovion ships, followed by missiles launching at the Ovions.

Heavy shells and high explosive rounds impacted along the Ovion ships. The energy screens surrounding the ships impeded the oncoming weapons fire, but the heavy fire continued pummeling the shields until rounds began piercing through. Missiles fired added to explosive weapons fire ramming into the Ovion ships.

Despite not having much more than half her weapons fully functioning, Haven was no ship to be trifled with lightly as the Ovions were rapidly learning.

Haven's weapons fire focused on the nearest ship, 1100 meters in length, and pummeled the ship into submission quickly with the majority of her weapons firing all across the ship.

Out in space, it appeared to be a light show as the vibrant blue bubble of energy forming the shields around the Ovion ship were continuously harassed by yellow KEW rounds impacted across the vast majority of the ship, with ripples across the bubble of energy forming as the shields strained.

First the energy screen was knocked down and then rounds began penetrating deep into the ship until the Ovion ship succumbed to the explosions roiling inside its guts and detonated in a large explosion.

"Remaining five ships evading the debris and pulling around for return fire, sir!" Colonel Skylar reported.

The two larger Ovion ships at 1600 and 1900 meters in length moved to the forefront while the other three smaller ships backed away behind them to provide supporting fire, the combined fleet firing lasers at Haven at full strength. The force of the impact shook Haven violently, the ship careening to starboard and the strain seeming to make the ship scream in agony. Layers of armor peeled off from the impact and the weapons fire super-heated the metallic structure of Haven, melting straight through the armor, creating hull breaches and starting fires inside the ship. Over a dozen KEW platforms were ripped through by the weapons fire, being taken offline or outright obliterated.

"Heavy damage to starboard and casualties climbing, sir!" Colonel Skylar called out from the main DC control panels console showing an array of red lights up and down Haven's starboard, signifying hull breaches and fires present.

Commander Cifer narrowed his eyes at the view screens, popping his dislocated left arm back into place painfully. Several CIC crew members were slumped at their stations sporting their own injuries, with medics helping those they could and moving away those that had already passed into the next life.

"Are enough KEWs still functioning for combat functionality?" Commander Cifer asked coldly.

"Aye, sir. 60% are still working of the original amount we started with since only half were online since we launched from the colonies," Colonel Skylar said, briefly glancing over the console showing the ship's weapons systems which showed a series of red lights signifying damage or destruction of KEW cannon and defensive turret mounts across the ship. Over two-thirds were lit up with red.

"Have them all target the 1600 meter Ovion ship. I want all launch tubes filled with nukes and launching at the other larger Ovion ship as we come about, turning our Starboard side away from the Ovions," Commander Cifer ordered angrily.

"Sir?!" Colonel Skylar exclaimed in shock. Nuclear launch orders had been scarce, even going as far back as the Cylon war, and had never been taken lightly.

"You heard me, Colonel. Haven is the best the colonies have to offer, but even she can only take so much punishment that the Ovions seem to be powerfully and effectively dishing out. We need to end this now and get the frack out of here. Or we're dead," Commander Cifer said, giving Colonel Skylar a hard look, staring into her eyes.

Colonel Skylar stood still for a moment, locked in place by indecision as she stared at Commander Cifer.

"Aye sir," Colonel Skylar said finally, turning to relay the new orders throughout the ship.

After Haven took another blast from the Ovions' lasers, she unleashed her return fire in force. All the KEWs fired on the 1600-meter-long Ovion ship, pummeling at the ship repeatedly and mercilessly; breaking down the shield in time.

Over sixty nuclear missiles launched towards the 1900-meter-long Ovion ship at the same time. Catching the Ovions slightly off guard. Point defense cannons on the Ovion ship opened up and fired at the nukes destroying several as they closed distance. Over twenty impacted on the Ovion ship, detonating in a massive wave of explosive power. The combined megatons of the nukes incinerating the ship even as secondary explosions with the fuel aboard setting aflame added to the destructive power, ripping apart the Ovion ship.

At such close range, neither Haven nor the other Ovion ship could evade as debris making it through the explosions incinerating the large Ovion ship streamed towards them.

The weakened 1600 meter long Ovion ship broke apart as the wreckage tore through the ship.

Haven was hit by a very large piece of debris among various shrapnel, tearing through the ship's armor and blasting Haven backward through space.

Fires raged inside Haven even as hull breaches opening areas of the ship to space snatched away crew members to the cold blackness of death waiting outside. Emergency alarms rang throughout the ship.

Screaming could be heard among several crew members as they shook from pain, loss, and sheer shock at what they could see inside the ship.

Lieutenant Drake pulled herself up, moving away a male crew member that had thrown himself across her to protect against shattering glass that had subsequently claimed his life.

"Commander?" Lieutenant Drake said tentatively, looking around for the commanding officers, knowing they needed to get the crew working to get the ship up and running and escape the Ovions.

Lieutenant Drake felt despair as she looked on at Commander Cifer's body, blood gushing out from numerous wounds. She could feel it within her that he was simply gone. Looking to the left, she saw Colonel Skylar close to the Commander with her arm reaching out to the fallen Commander. Frozen in petrified shock, Drake could only look on as Colonel Skylar closed her eyes in defeat and succumbed to the significant wounds on her own person.

Drake's blood curling scream rang throughout the ship, long and loud, unleashing the anger and shocked despair within all at once.

 **Present day**

"Our casualties were heavy in that first battle. Over a thousand crew members were lost, with even more injured. Both commanding officers were lost at the end, and the tactical officer, taking it hard, still enforced order in the ship and got us to jump out as quickly as possible.

I made my way to CIC as quickly as possible when I heard the full extent of what happened and took command," Commander Magnus said, eyes narrowing and feeling uneasy as the memories of that day rolled through his mind graphically.

"From that point on, the Ovions hunted us. We would jump farther away, go days without seeing them, only for them to eventually catch up with us. With no other options I ordered Haven to search out targets of the Ovions and strike back, hit them hard enough to weaken them and allow us time to escape. We destroyed a number of their warships and installations in their territory over the past few years in that endeavor and finally got away.

We found this area to hide away from the Ovions. Which your fleet managed to find, clearly more capable of predicting our tactics to escape the Ovions than they were... We've been fixing the damage across the ship the best we could with what we've had in the meantime, and we were considering our options in what to do next without a clear fix on where home was," Commander Magnus said darkly.

Admiral Jones and Commander Rodrigues stood, slack-jawed, in shock staring at Magnus.

Admiral Jones looked down, rubbing her eyes and shook her head. She turned back to Magnus, taking in his look of wildness and the air of danger about him with new appreciation.

Commander Rodrigues listened to reports coming over his communications headset, a small black earpiece over his left ear, receiving information on the ship's status that the Prometheus' deck crew chief had compiled. Their ship's chief engineer had spoken with Haven's deck crew and looked over the ship to decide what needed to be done for Haven in the time Prometheus and Haven's commanding officers had caught up on Commander Magnus' account of Haven's adventures.

"Haven's FTL drives are functioning Admiral, but several of the ship's engines need repairs that would be lengthy. The chief's suggesting tying in one of the Battlestars' FTL drives in a combined jump. We can boost Haven to the required level and can still sustain a farther jump with our FTL's tied in thanks to Havens systems. Should be safe enough, and the shipyard can begin repairs on Haven in between our jumps back to the colonies," Commander Rodrigues said.

"I see. That's good news. How long are we talking to get home?" Admiral Jones asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"With Haven somewhat slowing us down, we'll be taking a number of additional months of travelling to return. Still, we'll be within our original target range on when we were meant to return home," Commander Rodrigues said.

"Very well. Let the chief know he's to begin prepping immediately. If we can go within another hour or two, then we do so. Also, I want to gain distance away from Ovion space, so I want consecutive jumps immediately after as far as we can get as fast as possible," Admiral Jones said.

"Yes, sir," Commander Rodrigues said, getting up and leaving to oversee getting Haven and the fleet ready to go in person.

"We have a number of reserve personnel aboard the _Avondale_. For now, we can bring some of them aboard Haven to supplement your crew. We can probably bring more DC units over to help with repairs that way as well," Admiral Jones said.

"Thank you, sir," Commander Magnus said gratefully.

"Is there anything else we can go over or that you need for Haven?" Admiral Jones asked, looking at the commander and sensing he had something on his mind.

"No, sir. It's just… I have to give you my opinion over our encounters with the Ovions. I don't think they actually tried to take us out after our first battle with them. Granted we ran into them by chance, but when we fought it seemed like they could've done more. I think they were gauging Haven's capabilities and strength. Possibly they wanted to capture more of our people for finding more information about the colonies," Commander Magnus said.

Admiral Jones was silent for a moment, considering the Commander's words.

"You could be right. The Ovions clearly have a technological edge, but Haven outclassed them with sheer mass and blunt unrefined firepower. If they could make a ship the size of Haven with shields and their other advancements…

I shudder to think of what that would mean for us. You could be right that they possibly gauged Haven in battle to get more data on the ship, to that end – building something similar. They may also have wanted more information from capturing people, but sadly that wouldn't be the only reason to capture your crew. We learned in our own encounter with the Ovions that they have a taste for human kind. Quite simply, they might've wanted to eat your crew, Commander," Admiral Jones said, grimacing.

Commander Magnus turned pale and grew horrified at that, gathering himself together before continuing his argument, "Though they went to a good deal of trouble, so that alone couldn't have been it sir."

"Well if they suffered losses, certainly. Not quite feasible to go through so much effort for such a small catch… Unless they wanted a bigger source of 'food'. Like say, the colonies. Ripe with billions of humans," Admiral Jones said coldly, gripping the chair she sat in tightly, her hands turning into fists.

"My gods, sir, you don't think they could do that?" Commander Magnus asked in shock and horror.

"They're quite possibly capable of it. If not that, we know they'll eventually come our way in their search for tylium. Either way, the Ovions would be greatly interested in the colonies, and I doubt there's anything we can do to dissuade them except with war," Admiral Jones said, staring at the floor hollowly before looking back up at the Commander.

"Did we make a mistake that will make the colonies suffer sir? Should we not go away and purposefully lead the Ovions in a direction away from the colonies?" Commander Magnus asked.

"Time will tell. It's too late to worry about what could or should have been done. We could try and lead the Ovions another way, but we know they're bound to head in the colonies direction eventually, even if that's years, if not centuries, away. No, our best option is to head home and warn the fleet. Whether the Cylons require our attention or not seems unimportant now. Regardless, when we get home, the colonies will be preparing for war. There are threats to the colonies and it's time we started getting ready for them," Admiral Jones said determinedly.

After a few hours, BSG 8 and Haven began jumping away, then continuing on their way on the long distance that they needed to go through to get home. Damage to the fleet was repaired over time in the midst of breaks between jumping required on the long journey. The thought on several people's mind aboard the fleet was whether they'd make it in time before something changed in the colonies…


End file.
